Why I'm Quitting the Cannons
by TeenTypist
Summary: COMPLETE. Harry is fed up with stress and fed up with being famous. He had hoped joining the Cannons might let him relax, but no such luck. Now, he's officially called his retirement from Quidditch. Where to next? werewolves teaching living. Final Chapter posted!
1. The Speech

**Chapter 1—The Speech**

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**Disclaimer: **I own only Josephine Clearwater and a few other pieces here and there. All else belongs to J.K. Rowling. This story is not for profit, and the only reward I get is the smile on my face when you review (so please do so!).

* * *

Josephine Clearwater stood near the front of the mob of reporters, magazine writers, and journalists. She saw representatives from the _Daily Prophet_, _Witch Weekly_, _Quidditch Today_, and even _The Quibbler_. She scribbled a title, crossed it out, and scribbled a new one: _Why The-Boy-Who-Lived Is Saying Farewell to Orange._ The hubbub around her died down as Harry Potter himself approached the podium. He looked a trifle nervous and more than a little uncomfortable. Josephine noted that, and remembered that public speaking had never exactly been his forte.

"Hello, everyone. I guess you're all here because you've heard that this was my last game for the Chuddley Cannons. Well, you heard right."

There were several gasps, even though they all knew this was why the press conference had been called. There hadn't been this huge a mob of reporters after one of Harry's games since his first professional Quidditch match.

"There's a lot of speculation as to exactly why I'm resigning. I've heard most of the theories out there, but I'm sure there are even crazier ones I haven't heard yet."

A man next to Josephine muttered, "I wonder if this is just a ploy for attention and space in the paper…"

"Some people believe that I've grown bored with Quidditch from winning to easily. That's definitely not the case. I love Quidditch as much today as when I first got on a broom, ten years ago. It's not losing its challenge at all; check the scores and you'll see that for yourself. I don't _always_ catch the Snitch; it's still as sneaky a little devil as it's always been." There was some quiet laughter in the crowd. "I've heard some people say that they think I'm leaving Quidditch to become an Auror at last and hunt down a new threat from dark wizards." His face and voice turned extremely grim. "No. No, I've had my fill of dark wizards; of always having to look over my shoulder, of being chased, tormented, tortured, and seeing the people I care about get hurt. I put all thoughts of being an Auror behind me after 5th year was over. I knew then and there that I had something I was going to have to do. But you know what? I don't want to fight bad guys anymore; I'm sick of it. It's not a game. I wanted out. So I did what I had to, and I got out. I admire the people who choose to devote their lives to the protection of others, but I've given you all the years I can spare. Now, I'm staying out." He looked around, as though daring anyone to contradict him.

No one did.

He continued again, more light-heartedly, but still with some tiredness and resentment. "I've heard other rumors say that I'm leaving the team to become the new Minister of Magic. No, Penelope Clearwater is doing a great job with that position. Personally, it's not a job I want. I joined Quidditch to avoid that sort of stress. By far, I would have to think that the most unlikely story I've heard to date is that I'm leaving the Quidditch field at last to become the new Headmaster of Hogwarts. The last time I talk to Professor Dumbledore, which was just this morning before the game, he was alive and well. I certainly don't plan on being the one to deprive future generations of the wisdom of Albus Dumbledore. He's a great man; I don't know anyone, especially myself, who could fill his shoes and run Hogwarts the way he has." He didn't go on. What could he say about Dumbledore that they didn't already know? Most of the crowd looked young enough that he'd been their headmaster. The few older ones had probably had him as their Transfiguration teacher.

A middle-aged reporter next to Josephine asked impatiently, "If you're not bored with Quidditch, don't want to be an Auror, not going to be the Minister of Magic, and not going to become the Headmaster of Hogwarts, what in Merlin's name are you going to do? Settle down and get married?"

Josephine saw Harry Potter look at the woman next to her with sharp recognition. "Ms. Skeeter, why am I quitting Quidditch? I'll tell you why. It's _you_. And people like you who refuse to let me have my privacy. My life is _not_ public property. No offense to past or present Cannons or Cannons fans, but I joined this team to avoid high profile games that would have a lot of attention. Still you people won't leave me alone! Well, I've had enough. I'm exhausted from living up to your expectations. I'm through with this whole mess. Get out of my face." He scowled at them all for a good long half a minute. Then a little bit of a grin started to crack through. "On a little bit of a lighter note, I _have _been training a replacement Seeker. She says she feels more comfortable as a Chaser, but she's definitely got Seeker talent. Ginny Weasley!" He grinned completely now.

Ginny came out from where she was hiding nearby and gave a cheery wave as she joined him on the podium.

"But what _are_ you going to do now?" asked another reporter.

"I don't know. I don't know and I don't care, honestly. Maybe I'll de-age myself and go through Hogwarts all over again. Maybe I'll go to one of those Muggle doctors and have my face changed so completely that none of you will ever recognize me and I can do what I want. Maybe I'll build a shack in the middle of the forest on the Hogwarts grounds and live out the rest of my days there alone in quiet meditation." He was trying very hard to keep his voice even and not laugh and most of the reporters were taking him seriously. "Honestly? I don't what I'll do. Whatever it is, you can be assured my name won't be on the cover of magazines and newspapers anymore. At least, not if I can help it. If that will be all, then I'll just let this press conference continue with the new Chuddley Cannons Seeker." He stepped down from the podium and vanished into a throng of people passing by.


	2. Caught

**Chapter 2—Caught**

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**Disclaimer: **I own only Josephine Clearwater and a few other pieces here and there. All else belongs to J.K. Rowling. This story is not for profit, and the only reward I get is the smile on my face when you review (so please do so!).

**Dedication:** Thank you to the first people who reviewed the first chapter and encouraged me to continue this story, which I had planned to be a one-shot! Thanks to: Queen of Zan, ChEEkii MONkEY, Gwendolyn James, smartchic, Geminia, namire, feltons-babe90099, Slytherin Heart, Zesuit, Lil Bazza, Stella Blu, Stahchild, and hydraspit.

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Josephine knew that Harry had arranged for the crowd to pass by so reporters wouldn't trail him as he left. She still picked him out among the crowd and slipped away from the other reporters to find him.

"Harry!" she called.

Knowing he'd been caught, Harry let the crowd pass by the rest of the way. "How are you, Jo?" he asked, giving her a hug.

"Excellent speech."

"So, who are you writing for this time?" He knew Josephine often did freelance work, rather than just staying with one newspaper.

She grinned at him. "The Weasley family newsletter," she teased.

"How's Penelope? I haven't seen her since Ron's wedding." The two of them walked over to a café nearby and sat down under a large striped umbrella, the wicker chairs creaking a little.

"She's fine. Percy's miffed that she's still using her maiden name for her office and not Weasley."

"What about you? don't strike me as the name changing sort."

"No. I want to keep my own identity in the world. Just me. Just Jo Clearwater. Besides, I don't want to be married yet. I still have the whole world to see. So why bother thinking about that sort of crap?"

Harry nodded, leaning back casually in his seat. "Good for you. I think Ron would have been devastated if Hermione hadn't changed her name."

Jo leaned her elbows on the table, gesturing with her index finger. "But she's the traditional type. There was no way she was going to be married and keep the name Granger."

"That's true. How's Mrs. Weasley?" He hadn't been by the Burrow in weeks; he really had meant to get around to it…

"Which one? There're three now."

He couldn't help rolling his eyes at her. "Ron's mum."

"Oh, she's fine. She can't wait until she gets some grandchildren to spoil. Her bachelor boys and Ginny are placing bets on who's going to be first. Fred and George said their money is on Percy being the last."

"That's probably because the idea of Percy reproducing gives them nightmares, I'm sure."

"You've got a point there. In fact, I'm not so sure that I won't be getting nightmares myself once Penelope is pregnant." She shuddered.

A waitress approached the table, "Coffee?"

Harry nodded. "Sugar, no cream."

Jo looked up. "I'll take lots of cream and lots of sugar—make sure it's hot."

The waitress nodded at them both and went inside to take care of their order.

Harry couldn't help thinking it'd been a while since he'd talked to Fred and George, far too long. "So who do they think _is_ going to be first?"

"Well, they said Hermione isn't the type to want to rush into kids, so definitely not her. I'm sure Ginny isn't even going to think about marriage until her Quidditch career is over. Fred and George aren't the marriage type. Not yet anyway. Mrs. Weasley is sure they'll each meet somebody who'll turn them into that type though, sooner or later. Bill is still in that long-term engagement with the girl he met at the bank. I actually think most bets are on Charlie."

"Charlie?"

The waitress returned wordlessly with their coffees.

"You know that he and Tonks are getting married in the spring. A year or so after that and little Weasleys will be running around all over the place."

He thought about Tonks—brave, smart, clumsy, and funny. He tried to picture her with a baby in one arm and the picture just wouldn't click…maybe it was her current fascination with neon blue hair. "I just don't see Tonks as a mother."

She raised her hands in a helpless sort of surrender, tilting her head to the side. "Hey, I don't see her as an Auror, but she is."

"I suppose that's true. You have anybody in your life yet?"

"No," she said ruefully.

"What's this? Are you a little sad that you're all alone?" he teased.

"Not particularly. I like being alone. You know I just spend a lot of time at the Burrow and as Mrs. Weasley so kindly reminds me, she still has two sons left. I think Mrs. Weasley thinks I might be able to manage to tame one of them, but…no thanks." She wrinkled her nose, and then sighed. "I do wish she'd stop nagging about me and you."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You and me? Together you mean?"

"No, of course not. She's saying that it's high time I ought to settle down and that the same goes for you. She was so glad to hear you were quitting Quidditch. She just wasn't happy you were roping Ginny into it. Of course you'd know all this if you ever stopped by the house once in a while."

"I've been busy," he said evasively, wishing he could crawl under a rock. He could just imagine the look Mrs. Weasley would give him.

"She expects you to stop by soon."

"I know."

"_Before_ Christmas."

"Alright."

"And she expects you to bring a young lady for the family to meet," she said, in her best 'Mrs. Weasley' voice.

"Thanks for the warning."

"Anytime. So, just between friends…why are you quitting Quidditch?"

"You heard my reasons. I was telling the honest truth. I'm sick of reporters."

She put on a faux injured look. "Sick of me?"

"No, not sick of you. I want to do something where I'm not in the public eye anymore. I'm done being the Boy-Who-Lived. I never wanted to be him in the first place. I want to do something, _anything_, where nobody's going to notice me."

"Cab driver?"

"Can you believe I never got around to getting my driver's license?"

"Really? I've got mine, and you can use my parents' address if you're not living somewhere that the Muggle post recognizes. Dishwasher at the Leakey Cauldron?"

"Every wizard in England comes through there. There's no way I could keep it quiet."

"I'm out of ideas. Hey! Wait a minute. How are your writing skills?"

"Not great, why?"

"You use a pen name and nobody ever has to see you or know who you are. It's perfect."

"I'll have to think about it."

"I'm telling you it's a good idea."

"We'll see."

"Contact Luna Lovegood. If nothing else, you can work on your skills and have some fun at the same time at the _Quibbler_."

"You mean by writing stuff nobody would believe?"

She shrugged, but was smiling. "That, and other things." There was a twinkle in her eye.

"What?" He set down his coffee, which was halfway to his mouth, looking at her warily.

"I've seen the way you and Luna look at each other."

"We don't _look at each other_. When's the last time you even saw us together?"

"Ron's wedding. I saw you two on the dance floor and when you were eating together. I think she could be more than a friend."

"Well, I don't." He took a sip of his coffee and shook his head.

"Say what you will, I saw what I saw."

"And what did you see?"

"Sparks, Harry, sparks."

"You and your crazy theories, Jo."

"You only say that because you know I'm right," she asserted.

He took a last swig on his coffee. "I've got to get going and move the rest of my stuff out of the locker room."

"Alright. My work is done. If you don't go see Mrs. Weasley it's _your_ head in the noose, not mine."

"Understood." He stood up, fishing in his pocket for money.

"Go over for dinner tonight. They're having a celebration for Ginny."

"I'll do what I can. I've got to put my stuff in boxes tonight. I'm moving tomorrow. A new life away from everywhere else."

"Not too far away from your friends and family, I hope."

"No. Not too far." He grinned and left a few Sickles on the table. He waved goodbye and Disapperated.

Jo looked down at her notebooks and scratched out the title at the top of the page and wrote a new one: _Why Harry Potter is Closing the Book of His Life_.


	3. Packing

**Chapter 3—Packing**

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**Disclaimer: **I own only Josephine Clearwater and a few other pieces here and there. All else belongs to J.K. Rowling. This story is not for profit, and the only reward I get is the smile on my face when you review (so please do so!).

**Dedicated:** To all my faithful reviewers out there in cyberspace. You guys really mean a lot to me.

**Note:** Sorry about the short chapter—they do get longer as you go along.

* * *

Harry Apperated to his flat in Muggle London. He'd collected the last of his things from the locker room and was now home to pack. It'd been good running into Jo today. As Mrs. Weasley saw less and less of her own children, she'd started to take Penelope's sister under her wing more and more. Harry wasn't surprised that the matriarch was anxious for grandchildren; the house was probably starting to feel empty with just the Weasley parents and Ginny at home. Percy and Penelope lived on their own of course, and so did Ron and Hermione. Charlie and Bill were sharing an apartment for the time being and Fred and George had a place of their own as well. Even though Ginny still lived at the Burrow, she wasn't home much with all the secret training she'd been doing with Harry. The house was very empty.

Harry looked around. It wouldn't take long to pack. In the last couple of years, he'd moved four times already and this would be the fifth. Initially after Hogwarts he'd tried to live in Number 12, but it was too depressing. There were too many bad memories there; the remnants of dark wizard décor clung like angry reminders of his past and no matter how many windows he opened or new ones he created, gloom permeated the place and stayed like a dark fog. No, there was no way he could be happy there. It wasn't just that it reminded him of Sirius—he _could_ think of Sirius and remember the good times now—but it reminded him of Sirius being unhappy. Sirius had never been happy in that house.

After moving out of Sirius's house he'd moved into a small house on his own, but he'd just started with his Quidditch career at that point and the press wouldn't let him be. Then he moved into an apartment with Ron, which worked fine until he got married. Once Ron was gone and living with Hermione, the place started to get lonely. Ron and Hermione were settling into their life together, and Ginny was too busy to visit much. After Ron left, Harry put up an advertisement for a roommate. An extremely odd man name Gil answered the ad and he kept pet rocks that had to be fed banana slices every other hour, on the hour. That setup didn't last long and Harry was living by himself again in less than a week. He moved into one more apartment, this apartment. It was smaller, cozier, but never especially felt homey. He hoped this next move would finally be the right one. He didn't want to move again for a while, at least not if he could help it.

He folded all his shirts and pants into one box, and robes, pajamas, boxers, and socks into another box. A third box fit all his books, quills, pens, ink, parchment, and notebooks. Linens, curtains, and towels fit in another box. He also had a small refrigerator, a desk, a microwave, his bed, and a few pots and pans. A few more odds and ends fit into a couple more boxes. And that was all. His packing was done. Again. Oh, Merlin, he hated moving!

But nothing could be done about that now. He had to go. He shrunk down the boxes and furniture, and put them in his old school trunk, with his broom and Hedwig's cage. He left out only what he'd need for tonight and tomorrow morning. In the meantime, he had a celebration dinner at the Burrow to get ready for and he'd better hop to it.


	4. Celebration

**Chapter 4—Celebration**

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**Disclaimer: **I own only Josephine Clearwater and a few other pieces here and there. All else belongs to J.K. Rowling. This story is not for profit, and the only reward I get is the smile on my face when you review (so please do so!).

**Dedication:** As always to you kind, kind souls who review this stuff for me and give my ego that boost it needs. :-)

* * *

That night, Harry showered and put on some dressier clothes and Apperated to the Burrow. He had never bothered to set up a Floo line to his flat because he simply hadn't lived there long enough to be worth it. Besides, the less lines the press had available to get their hooks in him, the better. He rang the bell.

Ginny threw open the door. "Harry!" She flung her arms around him in a big bear hug, and he hugged her back. "Not too hard now, somebody's been working my muscles to death with Quidditch practice, you know."

"I'll have to beat him up for you then, Gin," he grinned.

"Come in, come in. You really fed me to the wolves today, you know that?" she asked over her shoulder as she led him into the house and through to the kitchen and out the back door.

"They were all over you?"

"_Yes_. And they were asking about you. Why did you leave so suddenly? What made you pick me to be the next Chuddley Cannons Seeker? When did we meet? Was it true that you and I had a romantic past?"

"And what did you tell them?" Harry asked, trying not to laugh.

"I told them flat out that my life would not be an open book. I was more than willing to talk Quidditch with them, but that my life, past, present, and future, was mine alone and didn't need to be shared with half the population."

"What they make of that?"

"Rita Skeeter looked like she was going to throw a hissy-fit," cackled Ginny.

"I can just see that."

Ginny's smile was entirely too cheerful. "She'll probably make up something absolutely horrid instead."

There was a beautiful tablecloth and candles on the table, with a centerpiece made of various orange flowers. The table had magically been enlarged to sit more people. "Wow. This looks fantastic."

"Thanks. Mum was going frantic earlier."

"So, who's coming tonight?"

"All my brothers and my parents of course, me, you, Hermione, Tonks, Bill's girl, Josephine, Penelope, and Justin."

"Justin…?"

"Finch-Fletchley. Justin Finch-Fletchley."

"Didn't know you still talked to him."

"Off and on. He owns the restaurant I usually went to after those murderous Quidditch sessions."

He ran his fingers through his hair. "Anything going on with you two?" He pulled out a seat for her.

"Nothing worth reporting," she grinned, slipping into it. "We're good friends though. I've got my eye on somebody else."

"Who?"

"I'll give you a hint. He wasn't in my year and he doesn't have a lightening bolt scar."

"Sure, that narrows it down," Harry said sarcastically.

"I don't want to tell yet or my brothers'll go berserk on him. All seven of you."

"Seven?"

"What? You didn't think I'd leave you out of the count, did you? You'd race along right with the rest of them if you thought I was in trouble; I know it."

"True enough." He sat down next to her. In her face, he could still see pieces of the ten year old girl he'd met, but she was quite clearly her own person these days, strong and powerful in herself. He liked her better this way.

"You're an honorary Weasley. Don't you remember the night you were staying here and Fred and George snuck into your room and—"

"Drew freckles on my face and dyed my hair orange. I remember."

"Not an attractive shade on you either as it happened. They spiked your pumpkin juice at dinner that night, or you'd never have slept through that."

They sat there, laughing, and Mrs. Weasley came out. "Harry dear! I see Josephine found you and gave you my message."

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley. Thank you. I wouldn't miss Ginny's celebration dinner for the world." He embraced her.

"Everyone's starting to arrive and dinner should be ready shortly."

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley."

"My pleasure, dear." Mrs. Weasley went back inside to her cooking.

"Do you realize she didn't say one word to me?" asked Ginny. "My own mother!"

Harry laughed and put a hand through his hair.

"I've got to go upstairs and finish getting ready. You want to wait here?"

"Sure. I'll be your party greeter."

Ginny went upstairs to put on her dress and brush out her hair while Harry just meandered around the backyard and kitchen.

He heard a noise behind him and saw Josephine sitting on the floor, coughing. "Dratted fireplace," she muttered, trying to stand up.

Harry turned and, laughing, helped her up, nearly falling down in the process.

"What's going on in here?" asked Ron, poking his head in from around the corner.

Between Harry's laughing, Josephine's coughing, and their surprise at Ron's voice, they both fell down again.

Harry got up carefully this time, dusting off his pants and glasses, and helped Jo up.

"Hey, Ron, Hermione."

"Do we know you? We haven't seen you around here in a long time," scolded Hermione, hugging him.

"I know, I know, I've been busy," Harry said, blushing at being reminded that he'd been neglecting all the people closest to him. If he wasn't anchored to them, he sure as bloody hell wasn't anchored to anything. He certainly hadn't felt like he had been in ages. "I've moved four times in the last two years and I'm moving again tomorrow."

"Not again!" groaned Ron. "Do you need some help?"

"No, I'm all packed. I've got it down to a system now. I shouldn't even bother really unpacking."

"You can't mean that," said Hermione, gently, hoping it wasn't true.

Harry smiled. "No, I don't. I think I'm going to try and stay put for a while this time."

"Mind on telling us where you're going to be so we don't have to check the newspapers to find an article that includes your home address?"

"Not yet. But I promise I'll be around a lot more," Harry said.

"Good. We've missed you."

"I know. I've been a little lonely too."

"Don't let Mum hear you say that or she'll be after you about getting a wife," Ron said.

Hermione looked quizzically at her husband. "Would that be a bad thing? Has it been so terrible for you?"

"No, no," Ron said hurriedly. "I found the perfect girl. I was just letting Harry know so he wouldn't have to deal with any nagging."

"Are you saying _I_ nag?" asked Hermione indignantly.

"No, no, I- I- I meant Mum," Ron said.

The rest of the family came to the kitchen in the next few minutes, Ginny last of all. She had on a sparkly blue dress, with her hair hanging down long with a little bit of curl.

Harry found himself sitting with Ginny on one side, Josephine across from him, and Ron on his other side (with Hermione across from Ron).

"You're hair looks good, Ginny," Josephine said.

"Don't mention it. Mum doesn't know I'm getting it cut off this week. A nice short cut. No maintenance. No fuss."

"She'll hate it," George, on Ginny's other side, said quietly.

"I know. But I don't want bits of my hair blinding me when I'm trying to find that Snitch."

"Good point."

"I don't know how you and Fred managed with your hair in your eyes all the time."

"Well, you're looking for a teeny little gold thing that flaps around at top speed. Our target was a nice big black ball that was going to break our arms if we didn't see it."

"It was a lot harder for us to miss," added Fred.

"And a bloody hell of a lot more painful."

The dinner was lovely, Mrs. Weasley really outdid herself. Harry was happy and content to be at the table again, among his family. This table held most of the family he had left. There were few enough others. Remus. Dumbledore. Who else? Probably McGonagall in an odd great-aunt/grandmother sort of way.

Harry sighed contently when the meal was done, wishing everyone farewell. Mrs. Weasley gave him an extra big hug. "I'll be seeing you soon, I hope," she said.

"I'll be here when I said I'd be here," he promised.

"Good, good."

"Jo, I'll see you for lunch tomorrow, right?"

"12:30, as usual, Harry."

"Great. What's our poison of choice again?"

"I think tomorrow we're going Mexican, right?"

"Sounds good. I'll meet you at _Rancheros_, then. You know where that is?" For the past few months, Harry and Jo had made it a point to go out and eat lunch together once a week, trying a new type of food each time. Last week they'd gone for Indian, but both had found it a little too spicy for their liking.

"Yeah. Wasn't it by the Moroccan place we went to a few weeks ago?"

"Yes."

"What are you two scheming?" asked Hermione, smiling and giving Harry a hug goodbye.

"Oh, not much. Just plotting to take over the world," Josephine said playfully.

"Oh yes, one restaurant at a time," Harry added.

"Have fun you two," Ron said, with a wink as he punched Harry playfully in the arm.

Jo rolled her eyes at him.

Harry said final goodbyes to everyone, including Mrs. Weasley twice more. With a final last glance at the warm, cheery kitchen, he Disapperated.

He went back to his bare-looking flat and crawled under the single blanket he'd left out. It was cold, but he didn't feel like unpacking anything. Hoping for a better tomorrow, and thinking about how right it had felt to be surrounded with his family again tonight, he fell asleep.


	5. Moving In

**Chapter 5—Moving In**

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**Disclaimer: **I own only Josephine Clearwater and a few other pieces here and there. All else belongs to J.K. Rowling. This story is not for profit, and the only reward I get is the smile on my face when you review (so please do so!).

**Dedication: **To JKIJ for remember who Sally-Anne Perks is!

* * *

Harry woke up, conjured some breakfast, and did some stretching. He looked at the clock. His timing was just about right. He took his trunk with his shrunken possessions and returned the keys to the landlord. The last of his things were now packed and it was time to go. He Disapperated, trunk and all, with a small _pop._

He reappeared in front of a tall house that leaned somewhat and looked as though it was probably held up with magic. He'd be renting the attic. It had very recently been cleaned up so that it could be suitably used as a small flat now that the ghoul that had been taking up residence there had finally died.

Harry knocked on the door and a woman opened it.

"Yes?" she asked.

He grinned. "Are you the landlady?"

She smiled kindly. "Right this way." She led him through a kitchen, up stairs that went past several bedrooms, and finally into the attic. The attic could only be reached by a ladder let down from the top.

"You can get the ladder down by saying, 'Lion's Den'," the landlady said kindly. "The words 'Phoenix tears' will bring the ladder back up. Give it a try."

"Lion's Den."

The ladder came down. It looked old, but stable enough. Carrying his trunk, he went up the stairs and inside.

The room was empty except for the mirror that hung on one wall and the wardrobe in the corner. The ceiling sloped downward and there were a couple of small windows and a little fireplace. Harry scanned the room again. There was a door he hadn't noticed before, and it looked fairly new. He set down his trunk and went to go inspect it, the landlady waiting anxiously for his approval.

He opened the door. It led to the outside and there was a small platform or balcony. Curled up on the corner of the platform was a rope ladder.

"This way you can come and go without having to go through the house. I figured you wanted your privacy. And you could land your broom there."

"Thank you," he said. "It's perfect."

"Do you want some help unpacking?"

"No, I'll be alright."

"Breakfast? Lunch?"

"No thank you. I've eaten breakfast and I have plans for lunch. But maybe I'll come down for dinner."

"You're welcome _anytime_, dear." She went back to the ladder and was just going down when Harry called to her.

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley."

Harry opened the trunk and returned his boxes and things to normal size, one by one. The old wardrobe had hanging space inside, and drawers on the bottom. All his clothes fit inside easily. He put the bed against the wall in the middle of the room, the only place it really fit. He gave his broom a spot of honor by the door. His desk went across from the bed and a little to the left. He settled the quills and parchment and things into their places on the desk, but left the books in the box. He had no shelves for them yet.

He took out his linens and made his bed. He left the curtains in the box, as they didn't seem to suit his new windows.

Harry found places to put the TV, microwave, and refrigerator, but had no way to power them yet.

He was officially unpacked.

All that was left to do was wait until his lunch appointment.


	6. Lunch Date?

**Chapter 6—Lunch "Date"?**

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**Disclaimer: **I own only Josephine Clearwater and a few other pieces here and there. All else belongs to J.K. Rowling. This story is not for profit, and the only reward I get is the smile on my face when you review (so please do so!).

**Note:** A nice (relatively) long chapter! Imaginary muffins to anyone who recognizes the Dianna Wynne Jones connection I put in this chapter. I've always thought these two characters were rather similar.

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Harry was waiting in front of _Rancheros_ by the time Jo arrived, and had come 15 minutes earlier. Jo wasn't late; she just never liked to be early. She felt punctuality was the key and it was best to arrive precisely on time.

"Have you been waiting long?" she asked, in surprise.

"Not long, but I'm starved. Let's go eat."

"Good idea. I could use a break after the day I had."

He held the door for her as she went inside and they sat in comfortable booth near a window. A waiter brought them two menus and they ordered soft drinks.

"So what's been so horrible that it's hardly after noon yet and you're already miserable?" he asked cheerily, closing his menu.

"The man I had to interview today was a slitherer-outer. That Howell! Honestly. He refused to answer any of my questions straight out."

"Wait. _Had_ to interview? You usually just write about whoever or whatever you feel like and see what paper wants it."

"I know, but _Witch Weekly_," she grimaced at the title of the magazine, "promised a lot of money if I could get a good story on the inventor of this new line of hair care products." She cringed.

"That's not like you at all, Jo," Harry said, surprised.

"I know."

"You're not selling out are you? Writing the story they want rather than the one you want?"

"I know. I wasn't going to do it at first, but then I realized that it'd be a new sort of challenge. To write something good about a topic I don't like. So I took the challenge. But now it's even more of a challenge. Once I found out that people had been trying to pin him down with interviews for weeks and couldn't catch him or get straight answers out of him, I knew I just had to go after it."

"Uh-huh. Whatever helps you sleep at night, Jo."

"Stop that. I mean it. It certainly is a challenge. That man is impossible." She smiled hugely; a challenge always thrilled her.

"Are you ready to order?" asked the waiter, coming back to the table.

"Yeah. I'll have two tamales and a side of rice," said Harry.

"What type of tamales would you like? Green, chicken, or beef?"

"How about a beef and a green?" Harry said, picking randomly.

"The green ones are very spicy," the waiter warned

"It'll be fine, I'm sure."

"Alright then." The waiter turned to Jo. "And for you, miss?"

Jo scanned her menu. "Carne asada, beans, and patatas fritas."

"That comes with tortillas. Do you want corn or flour?"

"Corn, I guess."

"_Gracias_. Would you two like a basket of chips and salsa while you wait?"

"Yes, please."

The waiter put away his notebook and left.

"So, you couldn't pin him down to anything? Anything at all?" Harry asked, amused. He sipped at his drink.

"Nothing really. At least nothing worth reporting. I don't know when or where he was born. I don't know how he came up with the line of products. Nothing. He won't even mention former jobs before this. I know his face was familiar. I just can't place it. It's as if I saw it a long time ago or something."

"Well, I'm sure you'll figure it out," Harry said consolingly, as the waiter brought out the tortilla chips and salsa.

"The salsa on the left is mild. The one on the right is hot," he warned.

"It can't be that bad," Harry said, bravely dipping a chip into it and taking a bite. He made a face and downed half his soda in a gulp. He started coughing and sputtering. "Stay away from that one." He pushed it to the edge of the table.

"I think I ought to have you taste test all my food for me. Then I'll only have to eat the stuff that tastes good." She laughed. "So are you moving into your new place after lunch is over?"

"I'm already done. I moved this morning after breakfast."

"And you're done already? Are you unpacked?"

"Yeah, actually. I'm pretty much done. I've got some shopping to do today, but I've just about unpacked everything. You want to come shopping?"

"Sure."

"I could use some advice. I need curtains, a rug, and I could probably use a new bed set. And bookshelves."

"Oh, is that all? How about a new roof and floor to go along with it?" she mocked.

"Shut-up, or I'll make you swallow the hot salsa," he threatened, lifting it up as though he meant to pour it over her.

Jo snickered. "Okay, okay. Do I get to see your new place?"

"Not yet."

"It can't be that bad."

"It's not bad at all. It's fine. I just don't want people knowing where I am yet."

She tilted her head, looking over at him across the table. "And since when am I 'people', Harry?"

"You're right, you're not. I'm just not ready to tell _anybody_ where I am."

She tested the mild salsa and it met with approval; she dipped her chip in it again. "I suppose I understand. I'll be moving out in a few days myself and I don't know where I'm going yet. I've got an idea, but I don't know for sure yet if it's a good idea."

"I'm hoping this time I'll stay put for a while."

"Well, I can't stand being home anymore. With Penelope gone it's just my parents and me and it's driving me crazy. I'm glad I spend as much time at the Weasleys as I do."

Harry nodded, wondering what it'd be like to have parents driving him crazy. Well, he'd soon find out. Living with the Weasleys on a full-time basis would amount to the same thing.

The waiter soon brought out their plates.

Harry poked his tamale with his fork. "What's this around it?" he asked Jo, once the waiter was gone.

"Er, it looks like a corn husk."

"Am I supposed to eat that?"

"I don't know. Probably not."

"So what do I do? Unwrap it?"

"Sounds good to me."

Harry unwrapped it, and took his knife and fork to the doughy thing that was inside the corn husk and started eating. After one bite he made a horrible face and drank the rest of his drink, and most of Jo's.

"What's wrong?"

"That was…the green one…really…really…spicy."

As the waiter passed by, Jo asked, "What exactly is in that green tamale?"

"Green peppers," he answered.

Jo looked at Harry and started laughing. "I'm…sorry…Harry," she gasped. "The look…on your…face…is too…" She didn't even try not to laugh. Resistance would have been futile; the look on his face was too funny for her to act serious.

"Another drink please," Harry asked, starting to recover. The waiter nodded and left. "Your turn to eat," he said.

| Jo looked at her plate, trying to decide what looked safest to eat. She started with beans and potatoes. "It's good, it's safe," she grinned. She started eating her carne asada, putting strips of it into a corn tortilla and rolling it up.

Harry took her plate and started eating. "Yum, this isn't so bad. Here, you want to try my other tamale?"

"I'd rather not."

Harry made a face at his plate, and then bravely gave it another try (carefully avoiding the green tamale). "This is a lot better." He started eating ravenously. The waiter manage to even talk them into ordering a fried ice cream at the end of their meal—it was entirely worth it.

When lunch was complete at the bill paid, Harry and Jo left the restaurant to walk the street. "Diagon Alley or Muggle London?"

"Muggle London."

"Where to first?"

"Shelves. I need bookshelves."

"Books. You sound like you're turning into Hermione. Or maybe me."

"What? Did you never consider the fact that I might like reading, or that I might own books?"

"I didn't know you _could _read," she teased. "Come on, I think I know a place just a few blocks from here. Do you want to walk or take the underground?"

"Let's walk. It'll be good for you. Healthy."

She made a face. "I hate exercise. But I guess I've got to do something. All these lunches with you can't be good for me."

"But they're fun."

"True, true. We're nearly there. It's just around this corner"

They entered a place called _Store It_. It sold shelving, cabinets, and chests of all shapes and sizes. They started to look around.

"What do you think of these?" Jo asked, peeking out from behind a rack of shelving and holding a dark mahogany colored shelf.

"No. I'm looking for something happier."

"How can wood look _happy_?" she asked, exasperated. They'd already been shopping for ten minutes and Harry hadn't found anything that sparked his fancy.

"I don't know, but that's not it. It's gloomy. No, not gloomy really, more…formidable." He wasn't exactly sure how to phrase it.

"Formidable how? It's a piece of wood."

"It reminds me of McGonagall. Don't ask me why, it just _does_. It's rigid and so straight lined. The wood is too dark to be happy. It's simple and elegant. Not for me. I want something more…down to earth. And happy. It has to be happy."

"Okay. How about this one?" She hefted another shelf. This one had scalloped edges and was bright yellow with green, orange, and purple spots on it.

"_That_ is so happy it's creepy. It's too happy."

"So happy it's creepy?"

"Like scary circus clowns."

She looked at Harry, looked at the wood, looked at Harry again, looked at the wood, and hastily put the shelf back where it belong out of sight. "I can see that now. Scary." She picked up a piece of plain, unpainted and unstained wood.

"That's too plain."

She leaned herself on the rack of shelving. "Okay, so let me get this straight: you want shelves that are down to earth but not too plain or simple, not too elegant, and you want them to be happy without being circus clown happy. What do you want?"

He looked around at several different shelves for about ten minutes. "I found it! This is perfect. I'm going to get half a dozen of these."

Jo inspected the shelves he had chosen. The color was light blue and built rather boxlike with a rounded top and rounded sides. Jo didn't see what made it so special, but if it was the shelf Harry wanted and he wasn't about to go crazy again it was okay with her. "So we can buy these and leave?"

"Yes." He smiled, very happy.

As they walked out of the store with Harry's purchases, Jo asked, "What's next on the agenda?"

"Curtains."

She gave him an odd look. "You're so weird sometimes."

"Weird?"

"Girly. Girlier than me."

"You're hardly 'girly' at all; I think Hermione might be girlier than you. What do you mean _I'm_ girly?"

"Curtains. Shelves."

"Look, if you went as many years as I did with no way to express yourself or choose your surroundings, you'd understand. Now that I've got a place of my own I want it to look good and be comfortable. I've been on my own a couple of years now. What's wrong with a little bit of pride in what my home looks like?"

"Nothing, Harry. I understand. I went through the same thing when Penelope moved out and I finally had a room to myself. You know I shared a room with her growing up, right?"

"I remember."

"The first thing I did was I went and switched out her posters for mine, dyed the curtains purple, and blasted my favorite music on the radio for hours on end."

"See? This is the same thing."

"But this is the 5th place you've been at. I thought that'd be out of your system by now."

"No. This time I want it to be more permanent. I want to want to stick around for a while. I'm sick of moving. Of running. Of being chased. I'm just _done_. I want to rest and be at peace."

"You make it sound as if you want to die with all that peace talk."

"I don't want to die. Of course I don't. I just want a relaxing life. I'm done with all this stuff. I just want to exist how I want to exist."

She patted him on the shoulder, a little sorry for having fussed at him. "Let's go get those curtains."

They took the tube to the other side of London and into a shop. "Are you looking for ready made curtains or fabric to make your own?" she asked sarcastically.

"Are you crazy? I can sew a little, but I can't create things from nothing. I need curtains  
that are already made."

"Alright, alright, sorry I asked."

They made their way to the back of the store where curtains and drapes were. In the end, Harry picked out dark light blue curtains with a little gold trim on them. They were short, but just the right size for his windows. Perfect.

"While we're here we might as well get your bed set too. What are you looking for? The works?"

"Sheets, coverlet, and pillow cases."

"What, no dust ruffle?"

"Shut-up, Jo."

Harry found the set he wanted relatively quickly. The coverlet was checkered in blue, green, and yellow. The pillowcases were yellow and the sheets were hunter green.

He liked the color blue. It was (ironically) a happy color for him, not a sad color. It didn't remind him of that red that was supposed to stand for Gryffindor braveness. Red was for the love he didn't have so often in his life. Red was for the hate that tore his world apart. Red was for blood. No, red was a bad color. Black was depressing. It was too dark and gloomy, or shiny and elegant (like that shelf Jo showed him). Not for him. Green on the whole wasn't a bad color. Just the images of snakes, Slytherins, Polyjuice potions, and the eyes everyone said looked just like his mother's disturbed him. On the other hand, green was plants, growth, new life, his mother, and so many other positive things, that he couldn't imagine not having a little of it in his life. Of course, the bad aspects of green were ever present as well, but he'd rather not dwell on any of that. Blue was good. Blue was water, life, renewal, and knowledge. He liked blue.

"What's your floor like?" asked Jo, after the bed things had been picked out.

"It's wood; kind of a medium tone. Earthy. I think I'm going to stain it lighter though. It's not as if I don't have free time on my hands."

"What color rug are you looking for?"

"I don't know yet. Maybe we ought to save that for next time so I can figure out what I want."

"Sounds good. Let's go back and I'll help you set up these shelves."

"I already told you, I don't want to tell anybody where I am yet."

"Are you going to tell Ron and Hermione?" Josephine asked.

"No. They'll probably be the first to find out," he said honestly. "But I'm not telling them _yet _either. I just need some space."

"I don't like it."

"You don't have to like it. You just have to accept it."

Josephine glared at him. "Fine. I don't like it. I'm accepting it, but that's only because I don't have any other choices."

"That's all I ask."

They paid at the register and Harry took the bags from her as they exited the shop. They said their goodbyes and as Harry turned to leave, Jo stopped him with a shout. "Harry! Where are we going next week?"

Harry gave it a moment's thought. "Have we had Japanese yet?"

"Nope. Sounds like a plan to me."

"Alright. I'll find a place and owl you the name."

"Good. See you in a week." He Disapperated.


	7. Afternoon

**Chapter 7—Afternoon**

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**Disclaimer: **I own only Josephine Clearwater and a few other pieces here and there. All else belongs to J.K. Rowling. This story is not for profit, and the only reward I get is the smile on my face when you review (so please do so!).

**Note:** Jo is younger than Penelope; I'm going to guesstimate that she the same age as the twins, or maybe just a year older than Harry and Ron. I rather suspect she's a Ravenclaw.

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Harry Apperated back into his new "flat". It was a one-room attic. But it was home. That's what mattered. He changed out his old sheets and blankets for the new ones, hung his new curtains across the four little windows the room had, and started putting up his shelves. He was content. For the moment, the world was good.

He left the empty shelves up for an hour or so, just staring at the ceiling, enjoying the calm of having no obligations but doing whatever he wanted. Right now, he just wanted to rest. To just be. To exist without people chasing him or dreams plaguing his sleep. He breathed deeply with his eyes closed, but didn't sleep. He just _was_. It was good to be alive and to be in the place that was as close to a home as he had ever known.

He felt that this time, he'd made the right choice. Going back to Ron's old room wasn't an option. That was part of the old life. This was new. Familiar enough that he could relax, but without so much old history behind it. He could still see some exposed piping, from before Mrs. Weasley converted the attic for him in the last few weeks.

He'd written to Mrs. Weasley, telling her of Ginny taking his place on the Quidditch team and his upcoming move. He didn't know where he was going at that time. He thought back to the response she'd written back.

_Dearest Harry,_

_You're always welcome here. Never forget that. Sometimes the best way to move forward is to retrace your steps and try things over again. I love you as a son and no son of mine will ever be turned away from this house._

_Mrs. Weasley  
_  
She was right. This move felt right. Maybe he was finally where he was supposed to be. He found the strength (mental and physical) to finally get off the bed. He started to organize his books onto the shelves. He was unpacked. He was moved in. He was _home_. He was really home. Merlin, it felt good.

Harry went out for a walk in the late afternoon air, slowly meandering into the Muggle village nearby. He went in and out of shops at a leisurely pace, occasionally buying something. Mostly he just enjoyed wandering around without limitations. He stopped at a small deli for dinner a couple hours later and read the local paper while he ate.

He watched the customers as they came and went, listened to snatches of conversation. There were minor squabbles and arguments and the world wasn't perfect, but for now, _the world was beautiful and the world was happy_.

It was after nine by the time he finally got up and started heading back to the Burrow. When he got there, Mrs. Weasley was in the kitchen.

"Oh, hello, Harry. Arthur and Ginny and I have already eaten, but if you'd like anything at all—"

"I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley. I just ate while I was out."

"I've been meaning ask you, I don't want to pry, but are there any young ladies in your life? It's never too early to settle down. You could use it," she said, using her best motherly voice. She really did want whatever was best for him.

"No, Mrs. Weasley. No ladies. Only friends."

"If you're sure…"

"I'm sure. Goodnight, Mrs. Weasley."

"Goodnight, Harry."

Harry climbed the familiar staircase of the Burrow. He went past Ginny's room, past Fred and George's old room, past Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's room, past Percy's room, and past Ron's room, to the attic. "Lion's den," he said softly, not wanting to disturb anyone.

The stairs came down and he climbed up. He got to the top and said, "Phoenix tears." The stairs brought themselves back up inside.

Harry changed into his pajamas and got into his bed.


	8. Chores

**Chapter 8—Chores**

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**Disclaimer: **I own only Josephine Clearwater and a few other pieces here and there. All else belongs to J.K. Rowling. This story is not for profit, and the only reward I get is the smile on my face when you review (so please do so!).

**Note:** I'm trying to make this story about what Harry is feeling and how he's moving on with his life, not about his romantic interests. I don't know why exactly, but in this story, Harry has a lot of female friends. I'll try to bring Ron and maybe Neville or Bill or somebody in next chapter to balance it out and make it more realistic.

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The next day, Harry woke up after a full twelve hours of sleep. Amazing. He felt so…refreshed. When was the last time he'd been able to just sleep for so many hours without having to worry about anything or anybody? Ah. Now what should he do? He heard his stomach grumble. Breakfast sounded like a good place to start.

He debated whether to take the stairs or go through the outside. In the end, he chose the former.

He went down the stairs and into the kitchen without being noticed. He knew how to cook and was very familiar with the Weasley kitchen. When Ginny came down a few minutes later, he was just helping himself to some bacon.

"Harry? What are you doing here?" she asked in surprise. "It's not that you're not welcome, but what are you doing in my house."

"Having breakfast. I offered to de-gnome the garden for your mum today and she insisted I eat first. What are you doing here? I figured you'd be at practice by now." He hadn't thought he'd run into her today. Mr. Weasley knew he was here of course, but he wanted to limit his whereabouts to just him and Mrs. Weasley.

"The manager is giving us a half day. We don't have to go in until 1."

"That's generous of him."

"It's because he said your leaving the team has given him a stress ulcer and he has a doctor's appointment."

Harry gave a snort of laughter. "Hungry?"

"I'm starved."

"Help yourself, I was just about to make more. You want eggs? Bacon? Pancakes?"

"Everything," she said, sitting down comfortably.

"Sounds good to me."

Soon eggs, bacon, toast, and pancakes were sitting on the table. Ginny had made them each a steaming mug of coffee. "Two sugars, Harry?"

"You know how I like it."

They sat down to a scrumptious breakfast. "So what are your plans with so much free time today?"

"I don't know. Not much of anything. I thought I might shop a little. What about you? What are your plans for today?"

"I don't know. I'm going to de-gnome the garden after I eat. Then maybe I'll work on decorating my flat."

"Just when do we get to see this fantastic new place of yours anyway?"

Harry hesitated, fork halfway to his mouth. "Not yet. I don't know when, but not yet."

"Will you at least tell us where the place is?"

"No."

"Not even me?" She looked at him with big, sad, innocent, puppy-dog eyes. It was a look she had managed to perfect over the years, to a degree that far surpassed any innocent looks her brothers had ever attempted.

"Not even you, Gin. Not you, not Jo, not Ron, and not Hermione. I just need a little space for a bit. That's all. Just some room to unwind for a while." His plate was mostly empty and he vanished its contents and put it in the sink. "I'm going outside." He didn't want her prying. He didn't want anyone prying. He just wanted to be left alone for a while.

"Come on, Harry, don't be like that now," Ginny coaxed, sensing the old moody Harry coming to the surface. He still got like this occasionally, but when he joined the Cannons it seemed to be happening less and less. She knew his quitting Quidditch was inevitable eventually, but she knew it'd be a bad idea too. This confirmed it.

"Be like what?"

"You're closing yourself up again. You don't want to let anyone in. As much as I know you say Ron's still your best friend _that's not true_. Ron has a wife now. Ron has something steady in his life. You knew this was coming. Ron spent less and less time with you. He had less and less time to be your friend. He's a husband now. He likes it. He's in love with Hermione. He—"

"You think I don't know that? I know they're in love. I could have told you _that_ years ago. I could have told that to _them_ years ago. It's not that. Just leave me alone, Ginny." He left the kitchen and went outside. De-gnoming the garden sounded like a good idea; he could relieve some stress flinging those suckers over the hedge.

Ginny wasn't going to let him get away that easily. She followed closely on his tail. "Get back here, Harry, I'm not done speaking to you."

"Well, I'm done speaking to you." His eyes searched the yard for a gnome to fling.

"You're spending more and more time with Josephine. That's not a bad thing. She's a wonderful person. She's your best friend now."

"Your point?" he said quietly.

"If you're not letting your best friend know what's going on in your life, then there's something seriously wrong."

"Jo isn't my best friend. Ron is. He always has been and always will be." He picked a gnome up by the ankle and flung it over the hedge.

"You're not telling him anything either though. Or Hermione. Or me. We're worried about you, Harry."

"Nobody needs to worry about me. I'm fine."

"Harry, are you jealous of what Ron and Hermione have?" she asked softly.

"Jealous? Of course I'm not."

"Are you sure?"

"Ginny, I was jealous when we were in Hogwarts and Ron had brothers and a sister and parents that cared about him and I didn't. I was jealous when Ron had a houseful of people who loved and I didn't. But not now. He's lucky to have all those things, but I can move through my life beyond that. Someday I'll have those things, but not now."

"Harry, you do have those things now. You have us."

"I don't need anyone right now." He flung two more gnomes over the fence.

"Yes you do. Everyone needs someone. Come on out tonight with Luna and me. We'll find you a nice date and everything."

"For the last time, _Ginerva_, I don't need anybody. I don't need your help. I don't need Luna's help. I don't need a date. I'm fine on my own. That's the way I like it. Deal with it. Tell your mum I'll finish de-gnoming at 1:01." He Disapperated and appeared on the ledge outside his attic. Ginny couldn't see him from where she was. He went inside, slamming the door behind him.

Harry seethed. Why did she have to do that? Why? She knew just which buttons to push to set off a bad mood in him. They were having a lovely breakfast, and then she had to spoil it by prying where he didn't want anyone and trying to find out what was the matter with him. He didn't know what the matter was and if he did know, it wouldn't be her business or anyone else's anyway. It had taken some adjusting after Ron and Hermione got together, but Harry got used to it. His best friend wasn't always around anymore, but he could deal with that. Harry knew things would never be the same as when they were at Hogwarts; at Hogwarts they saw each other everyday for ten solid months. But they were still best friends. You can't erase that kind of history. Ginny didn't know what she was talking about.

He stared moodily at the ceiling. Well, it wouldn't do any good to just glare at the ceiling for the next three hours. Might as well do something productive.

He Apperated to the edge of the village, behind a group of trees. He walked the town until he reached the local hardware store. Inside he bought the trays, brushes, stains, and paints he wanted. He made small talk with the young lady behind the counter (she said she was the owner's niece) for a few minutes before leaving and starting the walk back across town to the clump of trees where he would Apperate back to the attic.

With his new supplies, Harry got down to work on some chores. He shrunk everything down to fit inside his trunk again and pushed the trunk out onto his outdoors landing. He rolled up his sleeves and got down on his hands and knees to scrub the floor clean, conjuring a bucket of soapy water and a large sponge.

He knew he could have had the whole job done in moments with a little magic, but today was not one of those days. Today, he needed something to do while he pondered life. He wanted something to keep his hands busy and make him absolutely exhausted.

As he scrubbed, he thought about everything that had happened to him since the second downfall of Voldemort and leaving Hogwarts. He'd tried to build up his life from the remains of what was left by going to Grimmauld Place, but he couldn't do it. Maybe that was his problem. Maybe he needed to start over completely. Go where no one knew who he was a build a new life. But he didn't want to do that. Not really. He was happy here, most of the time. Life isn't easy to begin with, having to start over is worse because you have to deal with all the old pieces too. The pieces you'd rather forget forever.

He finished the last of the scrubbing and as soon as the floor was dry, poured wood stain into a tray and started to paint. He covered the whole floor. Random snatches of memories flew back at him. Words echoed from the past, some happy, some sad. Sirius's offer to live with him once he was proven innocent. Fred and George's calls of "make way for the heir of Slytherin" back in second year. Hermione's repeated irritation at how stupid boys could be. The congratulations of his housemates after winning his first Quidditch match. The roar of the crowd after his first professional Quidditch match. Hermione and Ron reciting their wedding vows. Luna asking him to dance. Cho turning him down for the Yule Ball in fourth year. Memory after memory came to him and he wanted to lock them away in a cupboard so he could really start over. But he knew he couldn't do that. They would always be a part of him.

Besides, wouldn't locking those memories away also mean losing his friends? Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Jo were his closest friends. He saw quite a bit of Neville, Fred, George, and Luna as well of course, but it wasn't the same. Would getting rid of all his past memories of hurt be worth losing the ones of Mrs. Weasley being there for him when he needed her? Would it be worth getting rid of knowing that Ron and Hermione were always at his side, no matter what the danger was? No. It wouldn't be worth it. His past would always be a part of him. Like some monstrous chain or tail. And he'd have to learn to live with it. Good or bad, he was who he was based on everything he had experienced in his life.

By the time the floor was scrubbed and stained, it was nearing two o'clock. It'd taken longer than he expected. He decided to make good on what he told Ginny and go down and de-gnome the garden. When he was done, he fixed himself a sandwich, and conjured up an old favorite book and sat on blanket to eat outside in the fresh air. It was cold, but not freezing yet. It would be a good idea to get his fresh air this fall while he could, before it started to snow with the oncoming winter.

Harry mused to himself. Relaxing was nice, but he couldn't do it forever. For now he could find chores such as de-gnoming and fixing up the attic a little more, to fill his time. But soon he'd run out of things to do and he would have to go back out into the world again and figure out what he wanted. But until that time came, he would be content with simple chores and hobbies.

He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Oh, hello, Mrs. Weasley," he said, looking at the owner of the hand.

She sat down next to him on the blanket. "I haven't seen you all day. Ginny sad something about you de-gnoming the garden and throwing a temper tantrum," she said, in a very motherly voice. The kind of motherly voice that asks without words "is there anything you'd like to tell me that I already know?"

"I de-gnomed the garden earlier. Ginny was a touch upset that I wouldn't tell her where I was staying, that's all. She said that someone ought to know where I was. I didn't expect to run into her this morning." He looked toward the horizon.

"Yes, her practice was starting late today. I didn't find out until this morning when she didn't show up downstairs for breakfast and when I went upstairs to find out what the problem was, she told me she didn't have practice for hours yet and was going to get a little rest. I think she's going out with some friends tonight."

Harry could sense the suggestion behind the last sentence, the suggestion that he should go with them. "I think I'll stay in tonight. My floor should be dry by now."

"Dry?"

"I coated it with something to dye the wood and help protect it," Harry explained.

"Oh. That's nice."

"I think I'm going to go for a walk, Mrs. Weasley. I'll see you when I come back."

"Alright, dear. I'm sure Ginny and her friends would love to see you at _The Bouncing Ferret_ tonight if you care to show up."

"I'll keep that in mind," Harry called over his shoulder. The Bouncing Ferret was the popular nightclub to be at nowadays.

Harry walked the village peacefully for a while before he stopped for dinner.

* * *

Harry spent the next few days in a comfortable pattern. He woke up, watched the sun rise, and went into the village for coffee and breakfast. He read the paper for a while and did a little people watching. By midmorning, he left his breakfast place and went to the hardware store to get his supplies for the day. He held polite conversations with the store owner's niece before departing. Back at the Burrow he'd put his project things away and do something for Mrs. Weasley, say, weed the garden or oil the door hinges. He then ate lunch with Mrs. Weasley (the only meal he could ever guarantee Ginny wouldn't be home for). Mrs. Weasley liked that; it gave her an opportunity to be as motherly towards him as she wanted. They read _The Daily Prophet _together (Harry had canceled his own subscription to it with this last move). It seemed he was officially off the radar of the wizarding world at last. After that he went back to the attic to work on some projects of his own. He whitewashed his walls and ceiling, stenciled different designs along the top of the walls, and was now engaged in building himself a bedside cabinet. Sometimes, late at night, he ended the day with a flight on his broom. For a few days, life was peaceful and good.

On the fourth day, he did everything as usual. But his conversation with Emily, the owner's niece, didn't go as usual. It took a bad direction.

"You've come in here every day this week."

"Yes."

"The same time everyday. Except the first day." She arched an eyebrow silently to ask "Why?"

"What's wrong with a little routine?"

"Routine, or are you just hanging around here because you're too shy to ask me out?" she asked. "I haven't seen you around here before this week."

"I just moved in. I had an old friend in the neighborhood and wanted to come back." He turned to leave, but she grasped his arm.

"I've asked around. Nobody knows who you are. All anybody knows is that you come in every morning and go over to that coffee place on the corner, then come here, and then disappear off to the west. That's all anyone knows about the green-eyed stranger. I want to know more."

"I prefer to keep to myself." He managed to shake her off.

"None of the houses nearby have gone up for sale recently. Where exactly are you living?"

"Close by enough that I can come here and get supplies for my home improvement projects on a daily basis. If you'd rather me take my business elsewhere, just say so." He was halfway to the door.

She opened her mouth, but a customer on the other side of store said, "Miss? Could tell me the difference between this brush and that one? Why is this one £3 more?"

Harry, grateful that Emily was distracted, left as quickly as he could without seeming suspicious. _So much for going unnoticed_, he thought bitterly.

As soon as he was out of sight of the town, he Disapperated and was gone. He unceremoniously dumped the extra nails he'd bought onto his bed and went outside to work in the garden. As much it was a punishment to garden when he was younger, he liked it now. Things were peaceful and always growing. He was beginning to understand why Neville liked Herbology so much.

He'd been working for a good hour or so when he heard someone coming and looked up. There was Emily.

She was panting but she was coming nearer and nearer.

Harry glared in her general direction, wondering what to do. He'd like to avoid a memory charm if he could, but if used magic to get rid of her, or slow her down, she might see the wand and he'd have to do a memory charm anyway.

He dropped the things he'd been working with and ran toward her. He reached her about 20 meters from the house and stopped her from coming any closer. "What are you doing here?"

"There're no houses out this way. I wanted to see where you were going. I'm on my lunch break." She blinked. "Apparently no houses except that one. Strange…I don't remember it before."

Harry said nothing, still deciding what to do. He might have to use a memory charm anyway.

"Where do you live?"

"I live there."

"All alone?"

"With my Mum," Harry said automatically.

There was a shout from the house. "Harry? Who's that out there with you?"

"No one, Mum! Just a friend!" Harry called back, hoping Mrs. Weasley wouldn't question why he called her "mum".

Mrs. Weasley waved and went back inside.

"Who was that?" asked Emily.

"That was my mum. She doesn't like to be disturbed. That's why we live here, away from everybody. She needs her rest. Go back to town."

"But I want to get to know you."

"I have things to do. I don't want you to get to know me. What'll it take to make you go back?"

Emily thought about it. "Go out with me tonight so I can get to know you."

Harry sighed and gave it a moment's thought. "I'll take you to dinner. But it's not a date. I…I don't date."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't. Do you need more of answer than that?" he asked, taking a step forward.

"Just asking. What time do you want me to meet you here?"

"No! I'll come get you from the store at 7. Don't come here. Ever again. Do you understand?"

"No. Why shouldn't I—?"

"Because I said so. Now please _leave_ right now. I've got things to do and I don't like to be interrupted. I've got a garden to finish weeding and cabinet to finish building." He was sorely tempted to give her a shove in the right direction to get her moving, but restrained himself. He'd have to talk to Mrs. Weasley about fixing the spell around the property for misdirecting Muggles.

"That's rude. Aren't you even going to invite me inside for a drink? Or water? After I walked all the way up here…"

"No," he said firmly. "You were not invited. Now please vacate the property before I am forced to call the authorities." He gave her a little shove in the right direction.

Emily tossed her hair over her shoulders and stalked off like an angry cat.

Harry watched her go, and sighed with relief. That was close. He looked back in the yard and knew he wouldn't get any more work done this afternoon. Tired, he went inside and went to the Weasleys' fireplace. It was time to see an old friend. One who wouldn't offer comments, but would just listen.

"Lovegood Lane," he said to the fire.


	9. Snarkers

**Chapter 9—Snarkers**

* * *

**Disclaimer: **I own only Josephine Clearwater, Emily, and Snarkers. All else belongs to J.K. Rowling. This story is not for profit, and the only reward I get is the smile on my face when you review (so please do so!).

**Dedication:** To all the wonderful people who keep reviewing and encouraging me to write!

* * *

Harry stepped out of the fireplace and in almost no time arrived at Luna Lovegood's place. "Luna! Luna!" Jo didn't understand. Jo was one of his best friends. But Luna was…something else. He wasn't sure what. He and Luna had a fairly good time together, but didn't particularly share many interests. But he still needed her. He and Jo were friends to the degree that they could tell each other things openly without fear of the other one being too offended. But going to Jo was no good if Harry didn't want advice. If Harry wanted to rant and rave or just let off some steam, there was only one person he could really go to. Luna Lovegood.

Luna listened, without judging and without commenting. Talking to her made him feel…better. Maybe he ought to take up Jo's suggestion about working for the _Quibbler_.

"Luna! Luna Lovegood!" He wandered around the house, calling her name.

Finally, her face appeared at the door of her bedroom. Her hair was sticking up in all directions like a bird's nest and there was an ink smudge across her nose. "Yes, Harry? Just working."

"I need to talk," he said simply. What more did he need to say?

"I thought so. Come to the kitchen and I'll fix some snarkers for us."

"Snarkers?"

"Oh yes, it's a new drink in Italy. All the wizards and witches there are drinking it. It's a combination of coffee, grape juice, and marshmallows."

"It sounds…interesting." For some reason this sounded entirely like a Luna drink and not something anyone else would have dreamed up. Maybe it was the marshmallows.

"It's quite delicious. Of course, we could always have tea if you prefer not to be adventurous," she said, with a sigh.

"Snarkers will be fine."

They entered Luna's kitchen. It was done up in blues and yellows, with pale blue beanbag chairs situated around an octagonal table. Harry, feeling at home in the bizarre but familiar kitchen, sunk into one of the beanbags.

"I hear you've made yourself virtually unplottable."

"I've done no such thing."

"You won't tell anyone where you are. Ginny owled me, rather distressed. Everyone's worried about you, but you can take care of yourself."

Harry looked at her gratefully. "Thank you. You're the first person who thinks so. Things have been going really well. I won't tell you where I am, but I'm safe and comfortable. I've spent the last five days relaxing and happy. But I'm not far from a Muggle village and people are starting to get suspicious. One in particular. I thought I could keep a foot in each world, but I don't know if I can. I don't really fit in the Muggle world anymore, but I can't just abandon it. It was a part of me before I ever knew about wizarding world. A Muggle followed me home. Now she thinks I have a date with her. I told her it wasn't a date, but I think she still thinks otherwise."

"You don't date."

"No, and I'm not really interested in it. I don't need any heartbreak right now. I want to get my life back in order first. I have friends. That's good enough for me. You're my friend, Jo's my friend, Ginny's my friend, Hermione's my friend, Ron's my friend. I have people in my life. I don't need more people. I just need to exist without being badgered. Is that so much to ask?"

Luna's eyes rarely ever seemed to blink, and her eyes were fixed on him as she mixed the drinks. "Having people you care about and who care about in return is an awfully big burden. Almost as big a burden as living your life alone."

"It's not that I want to be completely alone. Of course I don't. I just want some space. Just for a little while. I need to be able to breathe without having to worry about anyone or anything."

Luna brought him his lukewarm cup of snarkers and plopped down in the beanbag next to his, drinking contentedly.

"Her name is Emily. She's nice enough, but she's a Muggle. She can't know about the rest of my life. And I don't want her in the rest of my life. It'd make things complicated. More complicated than they already are. I've been working on a lot of home improvement projects and she works at the hardware store I go to. Apparently I fascinate her. I don't know why. We're going out to dinner tonight. I think I might have to use a memory charm on her. But then I'd have to find a new store and I'm rather attached to that one. She's not a bad person. She's just sticking her nose where it doesn't belong. I don't like memory charms. I don't think it's fair to take away a chunk of someone's life. It doesn't seem right. In some cases, memories are all you have left of certain things." He sipped at his snarkers. Not half bad; it was odd, but not terribly bad. It just had a strange aftertaste. But then, what did he ever have at Luna's that didn't have a strange aftertaste?

"Do what feels right."

Harry nodded, taking another sip. He hesitated before asking, "Do you have any openings on your paper? For writers?"

"I'm looking for someone to take over the Snape Files. Every issue we try and search out Severus Snape. He seems to have disappeared since the war. Many readers are eager to know where he is."

Harry contemplated, wondering what sort of fun he could have with a story like that.

"I've been doing most of the work on those stories. So far the conclusion is that he's living with a flock of penguins in the artic," she said sanguinely.

"Fascinating."

"You could work out of here if you'd like. I've turned my father's room into an office."

"Could I use a penname?"

"Of course. All people are entitled to a name that reflects their true selves. When we are born are parents don't know who our true selves will be. They can only guess and do the best they can in naming us."

"I'll do it."

"Good."

They contemplated the silence for a few minutes. "Do you think I ought to tell everyone where I am? I wanted some peace, but I'm not really getting it. Ginny already threw a fit this week, and Jo was annoyed that I wouldn't tell her…and Jo told Ginny and Ginny told you. It doesn't seem like I'm getting any peace at all."

"Love what you live. Life is about the happiness."

"Whose happiness? What if what makes one person happy, makes another person sad?"

"Whose happiness is more important?" she countered airily.

"That depends on whose side you're looking at things from I suppose."

"Can you look at it from no side? From every side? From your side? From your enemy's side?" She tilted her head with each question, and Harry was sure if she could manage it, she'd have turned her head all the way upside down. He was glad she _couldn't_ manage that.

"I don't know, Luna. I don't."

"What do you know?"

"I know I'm Harry Potter and I'm confused and looking for answers?"

"Are you really Harry Potter? Who is Harry Potter? What does Harry Potter mean? What's a name? What's a name that means something besides who you actually are?"

Harry thought about it for a moment. "I'm confused and looking for answers," he said finally.

"You may have just made the most accurate statement I've ever heard," she declared. "Would you like more snarkers?"

"One glass is enough, thanks." Harry was feeling a lot better. He talked, spilled out his problems, and she just listened. She said few words, and the ones she said just seemed to fit perfectly.

"You aren't done yet, are you?" she said wisely.

Harry knew she wasn't talking about the snarkers. "I yelled at Ginny." He proceeded to tell Luna the whole story about Ginny finding him in the kitchen for breakfast. There was some screaming involved, but Luna sat there calmly and just listened. Just as she had through all the other times he needed her too. If he needed to scream until he cried, or throw things, she didn't flinch. She took it all in stride. It made Harry feel better to know someone had a grip on things when he didn't. That's what he needed Luna for. Because she was one of the major rocks that held him in place in the universe, and for that, he was extremely grateful.

Harry heard the quacking clock on the ceiling strike 6:30 (Luna's clock struck only on the half hour, never the hour). "I've got to be going. I'm supposed to pick Emily up in half an hour." He gave Luna a hug and she hugged him back.

"Goodbye, Harry. Will you been in for work on Monday?"

"You bet."

"When the time is ready, I know you'll tell everyone where you are."

"When the time is ready," agreed Harry. He Disparated.

Harry got ready for his date with record speed time, Aparated closer than he normally did to the village, and walked to the hardware store as quickly as he could. Emily was standing outside, waiting impatiently.

"You're late."

"I walked."

"Where we going?" she asked brightly.

"I figured we could go to that little deli across the street." He noticed that Emily made a face at him. It'd be a long time since he dated and even so he didn't have much experience. But this wasn't a date. He didn't want it to be and he'd already told her so. Of course, that didn't mean he had to be rude. "Where would you rather go?"

"I want to get out of this town. Let's take a drive."

"I don't have a car. I told you I walked here."

"We could go back to you're place and get your car and then go out."

"Did you miss what I just said?" he asked impatiently. "I don't have a car."

"Oh. I thought you meant you didn't have it with you."

"I find walking refreshing. Is there anywhere you'd like to go?"

Emily didn't look too happy. She stared at him with petulant eyes. "There's a pub half a mile up the street. I suppose we could go there and get a bite to eat and something to drink."

"Sounds great. A nice friendly meal." He was determined not to make this a date.

In her shirt, denim skirt, sandals, and no jacket, Emily was not looking forward to the walk. They'd only gone about twenty meters when she started to shiver.

Harry rolled his eyes but didn't say anything has he handed her his jacket.

She smiled back gratefully. It only took about 15 minutes to reach the pub. Inside, it was crowded, but not too crowded. Still, Harry would have preferred to eat alone in his room.

They picked out a table in an emptier corner of the room and Harry sat down. He didn't even think of pulling her chair out for her. She stared at him a moment before sitting down herself with a huff.

"Some gentleman you are," she muttered.

Harry pretended not to hear.

An old man hobbled over to take their order. "Drinks? Who's this, Em?"

Emily started to answer, "He's my d—"

"Friend," Harry interrupted firmly. "I'm new to the town and Emily offered to show me around."

The man looked doubtful but repeated his first question. "Drinks?"

"I'll take a white wine," Emily said.

"And you? The same?" asked the man.

"No. I'll have water."

"Anything to eat?"

"Yes, please," Harry said.

"I'll get you some menus then."

Emily gave him a questioning look once the man was gone. "What's the matter?"

"I don't drink. Alcohol makes people do stupid things." He'd watched other players on the Quidditch team get drunk and act stupid and he'd seen other people, Muggle and magical, do the same. He had no interest in it. He liked to be as in control as he could at all times. Life was plenty out of control all on its own. "You said you wanted to get to know me," he prompted.

"You told me you're new in town. Where did you come from?"

"London."

"Really? You don't sound like you're from there. I'd say more like…" She gave his dialect a moment's thought. "Surrey?"

"Yes, actually. I grew up there, but I moved to London when I got out of school."

"And now you're here to take care of your mum."

"Yes."

"You don't look very much like her. Where did this gorgeous black hair of yours come from?" She reached out a hand to twirl a few strands of it around her finger.

"My mum's hair is red, but my dad's is black. Dominant traits and all." It was true enough. He pulled his head away from her hand. He didn't particularly want her touching him.

"I understand. My father's hair is a beautiful shade of blonde, but my mum's hair is mouse brown. So I'm a mouse."

The man returned to take their orders. "What you eatin'?"

"Fried chicken and chips," Harry said, handing back the cardboard menu.

"And you?"

"Cream of potato soup."

The man took her menu and left to put the orders in. Harry used this as an opportunity to change the path of the conversation. "Let's not talk about me. What about you?"

"Me? Not much to tell. I've lived here all my life and as far as I can tell I'll die here. What do you do for a living that you can spend half your morning doing nothing in town, be gardening when I come over, and be free for our date tonight?"

"I'm not actually doing anything right now as far as employment goes. I'm fixing up my place in the house and taking care of my mum. That's about all there is to it. My room's coming along fairly well and I'll probably be done with it soon. I'm thinking of taking up writing." That was about as true as he could make it. He didn't feel like keeping any lies straight today. "We're not on a date," he added.

She ignored his last comment.

Harry felt like the "date" was never going to end.

Fortunately for Harry, their food was brought out, and it offered a temporary distraction for them both until Emily decided to start asking questions again.

"If you grew up in Surrey, why does you mum live all the way out here?"

"She grew up here, then moved out to Surrey when she and my dad got married. She wanted to come back."

"Oh. That makes sense I suppose."

"I don't like talking about family. Let's talk about something else."

"What would you rather talk about?"

Harry rummaged through is mind for a safe topic. Sports? No, he couldn't discuss Quidditch and he hadn't been keeping up lately with cricket or soccer. Politics? He obviously knew who the prime minister was and the basic status of England's politics, but he didn't know enough to sound well informed. All he had to go on was the local paper here he read. What else could they discuss? They were from different worlds; had nothing in common. He wondered how any wizards or witches handled relationships with Muggles. He fell back to the old standby. "Have you read any good books lately?"

"No, not really. I like music."

Music. That was somewhat of a universal topic. Why hadn't he thought of that before? Of course, she would never have heard of the Weird Sisters or the Flying Mushrooms… "What type of music do you like?"

"Pop rock." She started rattling off the names of bands and her favorite songs. Finally, about 15 minutes later, she paused and asked, "What sort of music do you listen to?"

"I don't listen to that much music."

"Oh. Then why did you ask what I like?"

Harry shrugged.

"I guess this isn't a very good date," she sighed.

"It's not a date. It's dinner between…" he searched for the words, "between new friends."

"Friends with nothing in common?" she asked, eyebrow raised.

Harry smiled, remembering. "My two best friends and I have hardly anything in common except our history for the past ten years."

"Ten years?" she asked, eyes wide.

"We went to boarding school together for seven years and now it's been almost ten years. I was 17 when we graduated, almost 18. I'm 20 now. Okay, so I suppose that's only about nine years really. But we've been through a lot together. Hermione is brainy and smart. She's logical, always knows what to do. Ron and I have a lot in common. We come from different places but we're closer than brothers. I'm an only child. Ron's the funny and impulsive one. The three of us are a complete set; but the two of them are a couple. They married recently."

"Did you have feelings for her?"

"Oh, M—no. She was like a sister to me. I _never_ thought of her that way." He shuddered. "I'm happy for them. I don't exactly have a lot in common with my other friends either. There's Lu, Jo, and Ginny. Lu is a little out there; believes in all the paranormal. Jo likes to write; Jo's a reporter. Ginny is fun and crazy."

"Lou, Joe, and Jenny, did you say?"

Harry had gone with Lu instead of Luna so that the name would sound a little more normal and a little less memorable. If Emily wanted to hear the name Jenny instead of Ginny that was fine with him; it sounded more normal. "Yes."

"Where does this Lou live? I think I'd like to meet him. Joe and Jenny too. They all sound like fun."

"Actually, Lu is a girl. Her name is short for Luanne."

"Oh. And Joe?"

"Short for Josephine."

"Are all your friends women?"

Harry grinned with a shrug. "Ron's not. Hermione would have told me if he were. Actually, Ron is Jenny's brother."

"I see."

"They're really a lot alike." The waiter had left off the tab while they were talking. Harry took out some bills and left the money on the table. "Want to get going?"

"Sure."

"Unless there's somewhere else you want to go, I'll walk you home."

Side by side, they walked through the town. They left the main avenue and enter a residential zone. It didn't take long before they were standing in front of Emily's home.

"Do you want to come in for coffee?" she asked, reaching up and twirling a few strands of his hair around her finger.

"I think I'd better not."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I've got to go home. See my mum. Please don't come by the house again. Seeing strangers really upsets her."

"Alright then." She looked up at him, moved her hand from his hair to his neck, and pulled him in for a kiss.

Harry was a bit surprised. He'd said all along it wasn't a date, and here she was kissing him goodnight. It was a pretty good kiss too, as a matter of fact. No real chemistry between them though. He pulled away. "I've got to be getting home."

"I'd like to do this again sometime."

Harry shook his head. "Dinner was nice, but I think you and I ought to stick to seeing each other in the shop. Friends?"

She looked a little disappointed. "Friends," was her resigned reply. She went inside.

Harry, feeling much relieved with his "date" over with, started his brisk walk back to the Burrow. He figured he could make it back there and still have time for a nice late night flight.


	10. Bouncing Ferret

**Chapter 10—Bouncing Ferret**

* * *

**Disclaimer: **I own only Josephine Clearwater, snarkers, and the Bouncing Ferret. All else belongs to J.K. Rowling. This story is not for profit, and the only reward I get is the smile on my face when you review (so please do so!).

**Author's Note:** The next chapter is going to swing the focus back to Harry, because after all this is his story, but I had to write this chapter because otherwise my brain threatened to quit and I'm not quite in the mood to go hunting out a replacement.

* * *

A nightclub is not the quietest place in the world, nor is it the most private. Yet, the Bouncing Ferret is precisely where Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Josephine, and Luna met to discuss their dear friend's whereabouts.

Ron looked around their table. "Does anybody think it's weird that I'm the only guy at this table?" he asked.

"Feel privileged then," Hermione said.

"Neville is coming too; he just had to finishing pruning that new hybrid of his," Ginny added.

Neville and Harry didn't see each other all that much anymore, but they'd gotten closer in their last two years of Hogwarts. The others in their dormitory didn't really understand what the two of them were going through. Ron tried, but it wasn't the same. Harry wasn't the only one who had lost somebody. Before sixth year started, Neville's grandmother passed away. He had gone to visit his parents early in the morning and when he came home his grandmother was dead in her rocking chair with a cup of tea beside her on the table. Everyone said she'd gone peacefully; that it was her time to go. Neville wasn't so sure. Gran always drank her tea with no sugar and no cream; the tea in the cup was too light and it smelled funny. No one really listened when he suspected foul play. He emptied the contents of the cup into a sealed container and saved it to test. With months of testing until he had almost none of it left, he found the poison in it and knew what it was. With some urging and pleas to Dumbledore, he proved she was poisoned and got them to start an investigation. After almost a year and a half of listening for news and examining the evidence, he found the murderer on his own. Anthracina Avery. She was the only one in Britain who kept a garden that included ragwarsus plants. If any part of the plant was ingested, chemical toxins would spread into the blood stream and directly shut down the heart and brain. Of course, the Avery's didn't publicize this knowledge. It took Neville a long time to discover who had killed his grandmother and to prove it. Anthracina Avery was currently serving a 100-year sentence in Azkaban.

"Where could he be?"

"Neville?"

"No. Harry. I want to know where he's hiding and why he won't come out," Josephine said, frustrated.

"He must have a good reason," Hermione said logically.

"He doesn't. At least, not one that he would tell me," argued Josephine, grabbing a hot wing off the plate in the middle of the table. "I wonder where he is now."

"He's on a date," Luna said, taking a hot wing herself and starting to munch happily.

"What do you mean he's on a date? When's the last time you talked to him?" demanded Ginny.

"This afternoon."

"What do you mean you saw him this afternoon?" demanded Josephine. "Do you know where he is?"

"He's stopped by for a glass of snarkers after yelling at Ginny. I told you, he's on a date."

"With who?" Ron asked, surprised.

"A Muggle girl."

"I meant do you know where he's living?"

"Oh, no. He didn't want to tell me. He'll tell everyone when the time is right. I think that means soon. He's getting bored," Luna delicately set down the bone she was holding and took a sip of her drink.

Hermione turned to Ginny, frowning a little. "What were you fighting about?" asked Hermione.

"He was over at the Burrow to help Mum and find a way to burn off some time. I told him that he ought to tell us where he was living, but he complained about invading his privacy and needing his space," Ginny said offhandedly.

Just then, a woman with brown, almost black, hair and large silver earrings came over. "The upstairs room is free now."

"Thanks, Daphne," Hermione said with a smile. "We'll pay the tab on our way out."

"Send Neville Longbottom up if he comes in looking for us," added Ron.

"Sure thing, Weasley," the owner of the club said.

With Ginny in the lead, the five of them wound their way around groups of people dancing and tables, 'til they reached a narrow staircase on the back wall. The staircase led to an upstairs room for conferences and meetings. There were large plush chairs around a solid oak table. On the table were a self-refilling water pitcher and glasses as well as parchment and self-inking quills. A menu sat in the middle of the table, touch sensitive to ordering, and keeping track of the tab.

"So, what do we know?" asked Hermione, seating herself at one end of the table and taking a sheaf of parchment and a quill. She started writing the names of places where he might be hiding out. "Has anyone checked the Leakey Cauldron? He could be staying there."

"No, I checked with Tom. Harry hasn't been in there in months."

"Maybe under a different name?"

"No, Tom knows him. He would have seen him at some point."

Hermione crossed out the Leaky Cauldron on her list. "What about the Three Broomsticks? The Hogshead?"

"I asked Rosmerta," Ron said, "She hasn't seen him in ages. There's no record of him at the Hogshead either."

"What about Hogwarts? Do you think he might be there?"

"If he's hiding out there, I doubt Dumbledore would tell us."

"What about Grimmauld Place?"

"Haven't checked there yet," Ginny said.

Luna shook her head. "He said he never wants to set foot in there again. Too many bad memories."

"Maybe he's staying with Tonks?" suggested Hermione.

"Maybe…she's so busy with work that she's never home anymore anyway."

There was a knock on the door and Neville entered. "He's not there. I just picked up and moved wall-o-thorns bush that sprouted in her yard. It's the horrible fairytale sort that wizards bred a long time ago to keep rescuers away from princesses in towers. Tonks hasn't seen him more than once or twice since Ron and Hermione's wedding." He pulled out a seat and took a glass of water.

They kept the discussion and debating up for the better part of an hour with no real results. None of them knew where he was and it didn't seem like he'd be revealing his hiding place soon, no matter what Luna said about the matter.

"This is getting us nowhere," Josephine said.

Ginny sighed. "Let's just go downstairs and enjoy ourselves. It's a Friday night and I want to have fun. Maybe Harry really can take care of himself. He's survived the last 20 years, hasn't he?"

"You're just going to give up?" Josephine asked.

"Not give up…regroup," Hermione said gently.

"If he wants some time alone to think about life, we ought to give him it. He'll come to us when he's good and ready," Neville said wisely.

"Maybe he'll tell me at work on Monday," Luna said.

"Work? Harry's got a job?" Ron asked, surprised. "He said he was going to take it easy for a while."

"He's bored."

"Isn't most work boring?" asked Ron.

"Of course not! He's working for me!" Luna said brightly.

"He's writing for the Quibbler?" Hermione asked, wide-eyed.

She nodded enthusiastically. "When the next issue comes out, I want you to guess which article is his. He's not going to use his name, he's going to use his true name."

"True name?"

"Many cultures believe in a secret name known to no one. A name that defines who you are in your innermost and secret heart."

The rest of the group exchanged confused glances.

Luna continued, "If a person knows your true name, then they have complete control over your whole being."

Neville asked carefully, "Then why would he use his true name? Then wouldn't everyone know it?"

Luna turned to him and blinked slowly. "I suppose you're right. He won't use his true name per say, but one more fitting than the name his parents gave him. A name of his own choosing." She smiled serenely.

There was an awkward silence.

"Okay, so, who wants to go get their dance on? I'm ready to party," Ginny said with a grin.

Luna said, "I'll come. I promised the bartender I'd give him my snarkers recipe. If he substitutes wine for the grape juice, it'd make an excellent drink here."

"I'm for it. I haven't dance made a fool out of myself dancing in a few weeks."

Ginny whispered loudly to Josephine, obviously intending for Neville to hear her, "That's because he hasn't been dancing in a few weeks."

"I heard that," Neville said.

She grinned at him.

Ron looked at Hermione, then back at the group. "Hermione and I'll stay too. Sounds fun."

"All right then, let's go. Josephine, are you in?" asked Ginny.

"I suppose it couldn't hurt. I could use a good relaxing evening," she said, getting up as well and heading toward the door.

Hermione, blushing furiously, pulled Ron to her and whispered something in his ear quickly.

Ron listened and a stupid grin spread across his face. "Er, guys?"

"Yeah?" asked Ginny, already at the top of the stairs.

"We're going to go home. My _wife_ and I are going to go party alone," he said with a grin, going past them to go pay his and Hermione's part of the bill.

His sister made a face. "We did _not_ need to know that, Ron. All you had to say was that you were leaving," she called down after him.

Hermione shouted down the stairs, "I'll be waiting at home!" and she Disapperated.


	11. Revelations

**Chapter 11—Revelations**

* * *

**Disclaimer: **I own only Josephine Clearwater, snarkers, and the Bouncing Ferret. All else belongs to J.K. Rowling. This story is not for profit, and the only reward I get is the smile on my face when you review (so please do so!).

* * *

Harry sighed. He had a whole Saturday to himself and absolutely nothing to do. He didn't dare go into town; he didn't feel like seeing Emily. Maybe he could meet Ginny somewhere? No, she was probably still annoyed at him. Jo? No, he'd be seeing her on Tuesday as usual; if he called her up today she'd probably think he had no life whatsoever. Luna? Yes. Maybe Luna. He didn't see her enough other than when he needed to get something off his chest.

He wondered whether to send Hedwig or just stick his head in the fire. Maybe he ought to send Hedwig. It wasn't that far. _Quit being lazy, Potter_, he admonished. _Walk._ He sighed. Walking would certainly be healthier. And easier than sending Hedwig since he wanted an immediate reply. He could always Apparate, but he'd made a decision not to get fat and lazy by Apparating everywhere he wanted to go. It seemed that that happened to far too many wizards and witches.

That decided, he got dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt, pulled his sneakers on, and went out to his miniature patio of sorts. He threw down the rope ladder, scurried down, and (zapping the ladder back up with his wand) took off for Luna's at a jog.

He reached the house and knocked on the door. When there was no answer, he tried knocking a few more times, and at last resorted to the bell. He pressed the bell. Her doorbell was the sound of a chicken squawking to the tune of Jingle Bells. He winced. Same old Luna.

The song ended and Luna still had not appeared. He noticed something sticking out from under the door and picked it up. The envelope was addressed to: WHOEVER IS HOLDING THIS ENVELOPE, THIS LETTER IS FOR YOU.

He opened it up, and bright purple writing that he recognized as Luna's said,

_To whom this may concern,_

_I've gone out shopping for the day and will not return for some many hours. Please put this letter back in the envelope and let it stick out slightly from under the door in case any other callers come to see me._

_Wishing you a Joyous Saturday,_

_Luna Lovegood  
_

Harry put the letter back in the envelope unhappily and returned it to its place. He weighed his choices. Admit to Jo that he had nothing to do today and hang out with her, or spend the day alone? He opted for the former and Apparated to Jo's house and knocked on the door.

Mrs. Clearwater opened it, adjusting her glasses. "Hello? Harry Potter, it's good to see you. You almost never come by the house. How are you?"

He felt a little awkward, putting his hands in his pockets. "I'm fine, Mrs. Clearwater. Is Josephine home?"

"No, did you have a date? She's moving her things out today. She just left with the last set of boxes. She's been at it all morning."

"Oh. No, we didn't have any plans. I was just wondering if she was interested in lunch or anything," he said, embarrassed.

"I'll tell her you stopped by."

"No, no, you don't have to. I'll just let her know the next time I see her."

"It's no trouble—"

"Really, Mrs. Clearwater. It's fine. I've got to be going."

"If you're sure—"

"Yes, sorry to trouble you," he turned and walked a few feet away before Disapparating. Etiquette demanded that you never Disapparate directly next to a person if you can avoid it. The plop of imploding air was considered rude. He was glad to get away. Mrs. Clearwater was the kind of person who talked for hours on end. He looked around to see where he'd Apparated to. He hadn't really had a clear idea in his mind when he'd disappeared. He looked around and saw the ground covered in snow as far as he could see. And was that a glacier up ahead? _Next I know, Snape'll be dancing around me with purple and green penguins_, Harry thought to himself. He sat down in the snow.

No Luna. No Jo. He didn't feel like speaking with Ginny yet. He knew he'd have to apologize to her soon though. Maybe he'd go pay a visit to Neville. No, Nev was usually busy on Saturdays. Between work and that girl he was seeing, he didn't have much free time.

He was just about to Apparate back to the Burrow when he realized how stupid he was. Except for that celebration dinner for Ginny the week before, it had been ages since he last saw Ron and Hermione.

For an idle moment, he almost wished the three of them were back at Hogwarts. Hogwarts the way it should have been for them. Hogwarts without the shadow and fear of war looming over it for seven years. He brushed the thought aside and Apparated directly to Ron and Hermione's doorstep. Ginning, he brought back his arm to knock on the cheery-looking green door. With true comedic timing, it was at just that moment that Ron opened the door and Harry pounded on his head a few times.

"Ow! Take it easy Harry! I beat you to the door!" He tried to shield his head with his arms.

"Sorry, Ron," Harry said sheepishly, giving him another whack, just for good measure.

"Come in. Hermione saw you through the window."

The old friends entered happily and went into the living room. Hermione jumped up form her chair and ran to hug Harry and give him a peck on the cheek. He grinned. The nice thing about Hermione was that she always greeted him like it'd been years since they'd seen each other, instead of just a few days.

Ron said amicably, "You know, it's a good thing I'm not the jealous type."

Harry gave Hermione an extra squeeze before letting go. "Don't worry, Ron. I'm not looking for romance just now." He took Hermione's chair and Hermione and Ron settled themselves on the loveseat.

"Uh-huh. Judging by what Luna said la—Ow! What was that for?" He looked at his wife, who had just viciously elbowed him in the ribs mid-sentence.

"You saw Luna last night?" Harry asked, a little surprised.

"A group of us met at—"

"The Bouncing Ferret. Your Mum told me Ginny was meeting a bunch of people down there and said I ought to go and have some fun, but I was busy last night. What exactly did Luna say?"

"Just that you were out with some girl," Ron said. "What are you doing spending so much time at my house anyway? Gin says you're there a lot lately."

"It gives me something to do. I like helping your Mum out with things around the house. But that's not the point," Harry said quickly.

"I always hated helping around the house," muttered Ron.

"It's good to see you're taking an interest in dating. What's this girl like?" Hermione said supportively.

"Actually, I'm not. Luna didn't tell you? I didn't want to go on that date. The girl followed me home and the only way I could get rid of her was to agree to go out with her."

"The famous Harry Potter is getting stalked? Surprise, surprise," Ron said.

"Nothing like that. She doesn't know about any of that. She's a Muggle."

"Which explains why it was a problem that she followed you home," Hermione said logically.

"If she didn't know who you were, then why did she follow you home?" asked Ron.

"Isn't it obvious? She fancies him. That's not uncommon, Ron. Harry's a very good looking, man. Lots of girls find him attractive."

Ron looked a trifle hurt. "Do you?" he asked, in a I'm-a-hurt-puppy-dog voice, playing for sympathy.

"I know that he's good looking, but I don't love him the way I love you." She gave him a kiss that made him shut up for the moment. "Besides, I have a thing for redheads, and Harry didn't look good as a redhead. What brought you by today, Harry?"

"I was wondering if you knew how to run Muggle devices without an electric source. Is there any sort of magical equivalent?"

"What exactly do you want to operate?"

"Not much. Just a microwave and a refrigerator. I've got a television too but I can live without that."

"Hmm…I think a simple permanent cool charm will work just fine on the refrigerator. I've got a spell handy for that if you'd like. Microwave could prove trickier. I'm afraid the television might not work at all. You might be too far out of the radio signals for it. I'll see what I can do. I can come over this afternoon if you'd like. Or even now. We're not doing anything today, are we, Ron?"

"Nothing I can think of," he said, shaking his head.

"Good. Are you hungry, Harry?"

"I could use a bite, I suppose. It's almost noon and I haven't had breakfast yet," he said, shrugging.

"Ron can make us some sandwiches while you and I talk."

"How come I have to make them?" asked Ron.

"Because you'll eat most of them. Besides, you don't want to subject Harry to my horrible cooking."

"It's not that bad."

"Yesterday you said you found eggshells in my scrambled eggs."

"Fine. I'll go make the sandwiches," muttered Ron, getting up and going off into the kitchen to start on the sandwiches.

Harry laughed when he was sure Ron was out of earshot. "I didn't know Ron was such a little-miss-housewife."

"He's not. Cooking is about it. He doesn't care about the house being clean, and I do the dishes myself. So, tell me about what's going on with you."

"Not much, and I like it that way."

"It's been almost a week since you moved. How have you been spending your time?" she pressed, eager to know.

"I get up in the morning and go find a place for breakfast and coffee. Then I take care of home repairs. After that, there's not much to do but relax, fly, and enjoy my time off." He smiled, but his heart wasn't in it.

"You don't really enjoy it as much as you thought you would, do you?" she asked, kindly.

"It was great at first, but…" He shrugged.

"After a while it gets boring?"

"Well…yeah."

"Have you thought about other ways to fill your time?"

"Without getting a nine-to-five?"

"Exactly. Maybe taking up an art could help? Painting is very relaxing."

"I've thought about it. I haven't come up with much. I think I might start writing for Luna's paper."

"That'd be interesting, I suppose…" She sounded doubtful.

Ron came back out with a tray of sandwiches and empty glasses. "I wasn't sure what anybody wanted to drink," he said, placing the tray on the coffee table and sitting by Hermione again.

They chatted over lunch. Ron asked Harry for the umpteenth time how he dared quit the Cannons when they finally had a shot at the Cup.

"They've still got a shot at the Cup. You're sister will do a great job as a Seeker."

Now it was Ron's turn to look at Harry doubtfully.

Hermione ruffled his hair. "Your sister will do a fine job."

"I don't like the idea of my innocent baby sister on a Quidditch team with six men. You know what they're like, Harry," Ron said darkly.

"Gin will be fine. She can take care of herself," Harry said, with full confidence. Ginny was the sort of girl with a lot of guts in a little package. She could take care of herself.

Hermione looked at Ron, "Ginny was never as naïve and innocent as you thought. She's a big girl. She got her first kiss before you did."

"Who was it? I'll kill him. Worse, I'll send Fred and George after him."

Hermione just shook her head, refusing to answer the question. Soon they were done eating.

"Is your house hooked up to the Floo network yet?" asked Hermione, putting a scarf on against the nippy weather.

"Not yet."

"Looks like you're gonna have to give in and tell us where you're staying then, otherwise we can't come help," Ron said cheerily.

"We'll Floo to the Burrow. It'll be a quick walk from there," Harry said truthfully.

"Alright, Harry. If that's what you want."

He nodded and lit a fire in the fireplace. He threw in a pinch of Floo powder and called, "The Burrow!" and stepped through.

Ron and Hermione arrived shortly after.

"You're sure you want to see it?" he asked.

"Of course we do."

"Are you embarrassed about where you live? I'm sure it's lovely," Hermione offered.

"No, I'm not embarrassed at all. I like where I am. C'mon. I'll show you. It's not far." He led them around out back, asked them to close their eyes while he led them to and fro awhile, and finally summoned down the rope ladder. He let them open their eyes to climb the ladder and they waited on the landing for him.

"Why does this seem so familiar," mumbled Ron.

"This landing looks new," Hermione remarked.

"It is. It was built just before I moved in so that I would have a way to get inside without going through the entire house. Come in." He opened the door for them and they stepped inside.

"Wow, it looks great. The walls are so fresh and bright."

"I just whitewashed it all this week," Harry said. "What do you think of the designs on the top? Do they look alright?"

"Yeah. They look fantastic. These curtains are great too."

"Josephine helped pick them out."

"New shelves, new bedclothes, a freshly stained floor. This looks great," Hermione said, admiring the room.

"I can't believe how clean it is. Except for that pile of wood in the corner," Ron said.

"I'm building a bedside cabinet. It's still in the work in progress phase," Harry said sheepishly.

"The rest of the place looks terrific though," Ron said. "I know it's familiar though. I just can't figure it out. Why can't I put my finger on it?"

"I'll get to work on that cooling charm," offered Hermione.

"Careful, there's some exposed piping over there," warned Harry, as Hermione walked towards the refrigerator.

Ron walked the room several more times, trying to figure it out.

Finally Harry told him to stop thinking so hard; Ron might hurt his brain that way. They talked Quidditch for a while, while Hermione worked on the permanent cool charm. When she finished, she looked a little tired.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. It's one of those spells that takes a lot out of you," she said, sitting down on Harry's bed.

"Sorry there's not much of anywhere to sit. I haven't gotten around to bringing any chairs in yet," Harry said apologetically.

"It's fine, Harry. Ron and I have made a lot of improvements on our house since moving in. I can't believe how much you've done here."

"You should have seen what it was like before I moved in," Harry said.

"I'll bet." She looked around again with a smile. "What time is it?"

"I'm not sure. I don't have a clock yet. I usually just get up when the sun does, or whenever it suits me."

Ron and Hermione stayed for a while and they talked and caught up. Finally they said that they'd best be going. Hermione Disapparated, then Ron.

Not thirty seconds later, Ron returned. "I've got it! This is the Burrow! You're living in my attic!" he crowed, a huge grin plastered on his face.

"Keep it down. Gin doesn't know yet, and I haven't soundproofed this place."

"She doesn't know? I just figured she was holding out on us," Ron said, brow furrowed.

"No. Your mum and dad know and that's it. And now you know."

"And Hermione."

"You told her?"

"Come on, Harry. Anything I know, she's bound to find out, whether I mean to tell her or not. You know that."

"Can't hide anything from Hermione."

"Never could."

"You're the first to find out about where I am," Harry told Ron.

"You haven't told Jo yet?" he asked in surprise.

"No. Why?"

Ron shook his head, looking chuckling. "I figured you'd probably tell her first and then the rest of us. Especially since she moved in."

"Moved in?"

"Didn't you know?"

"Know what?" Harry asked. He looked around for some place to sit and settled for the bed. There wasn't much of anywhere else to go.

"She moved out of her parents' place today."

"I know. I went by the house and her mum said she was gone. Where is she?"

"She moved in _here_. She's got my old room. Or maybe Percy's room. No, I think mine…Or…I dunno. Mum Owled me this morning."

"Neither of them said a word about it to me."

"You haven't said a word to them either," pointed out Ron.

"That's different."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"No, it's not."

"Fine, it's not."

"Thank you," Ron grinned at him.

"You're welcome. Wipe off that cheeky grin. You're not going to tell, are you?"

"Nah. Except Hermione."

"She doesn't count."

"Of course not."

They grinned at each other for a moment.

"You'd best be getting home to the missus," teased Harry.

"Hey, married life is good to me. You ought to get yourself a girl, mate."

He shook his head, leaning back on his elbows."I'll think about. Don't know if I want one yet. Not right now anyway."

"Why not?"

"I like the freedom."

"What freedom? You're not a wild, crazy bachelor. Unless you've been hiding out in clubs I don't know about," Ron snorted.

"There're other sorts of freedom than spending all night getting drunk with women. There's the freedom of not having an expectations. It's refreshing. Besides, who's out there for me?"

"You got lots of girl friends."

"Yeah, Ron. Friends. That's the million galleon word."

"What about my sister?"

"Ginny? Ginny Weasley is practically my sister, Ron. How could you even say something like that?"

"Just wanted to see the look on your face, Harry. I'd never let you actually touch my sister."

"Of course not. And I don't want to. No guy is allowed to touch Ginerva Weasley or the unlucky soul shall face the wrath of a thousand fiery redheads." It was commandment #3 on the Weasley brothers' tablet of laws.

"What about Luna? Josephine said you and Luna were looking pretty cozy at my wedding."

"You were too busy to notice this yourself of course."

"Of course. I was a little preoccupied at the time, and I had every right to be; it was _my_ wedding. What about Daphne?"

"We talk on occasion, but not much beyond that."

"And Josephine? You spend more time with her than me these days." He quirked an eyebrow, asking silently if there was more going on than just friendship.

"What? Me and Josephine? That's just crazy."

"Well, how do you know?"

"What do you mean, how do I know?"

"I mean, have you thought about possibility that you might be more than friends someday?"

"That's absurd."

"No, it's not, Harry. Hermione and I were friends for how many years?"

"This is different, Ron," Harry persisted, getting up and walking toward the window. Wouldn't he know it if there was something between them? Then again, just how long had Ron and Hermione gone on without realizing it? It wasn't as though they fell madly in love in first year or anything.

"Just hear me out. Have you even considered the possibility that there might be some chemistry between you two?"

"Chemistry?"

"Sparks, Harry."

"There's nothing between us."

"Have you tried? You don't know until you try."

"I just know. There's nothing. I can't imagine dating her."

"Harry, you go out with her every week, don't you?"

"Yeah. For a few months now. We've had this thing going where we try a new type of food each week. It's just lunch," he said uncomfortably.

"You're practically dating her already. Just in a platonic way."

"Do you realize that sentence made no sense whatsoever?" Harry asked, turning to face Ron.

"All I know is that you two get along and have a great time together. That's all I'm saying," Ron said innocently, putting his hands up in surrender and backing off.

"Look, Ron. She's one of my best friends. Maybe even a rebound best friend."

"What do you mean, Harry?"

"I started hanging out with her more after your engagement."

"Harry, I'm sorry. I guess I haven't been making that much of an effort to see you lately."

"You've been busy, Ron. You've got Hermione, and Auror training. You're busy. Until this week, I haven't had a lot of time either. Look, Josephine and I are close friends. Really close. That's it. I don't want it to change."

"It could always change for the better," reminded Ron.

"Or for the worse."

"You'll never know unless you try, Haar. I think you should. But that might just be me thinking out loud. I'll see you soon." He Disapparated with a cheery wave.


	12. Old Friends

**Chapter 12—Old Friends**

* * *

**Disclaimer: **I own only Josephine Clearwater, and a few other odds and ends. All else belongs to J.K. Rowling. This story is not for profit, and the only reward I get is the smile on my face when you review (so please do so!).

* * *

Harry spent the rest of the day working on his bedside cabinet. Around eight-ish he went out to Ottery St. Catchpole to do some grocery shopping now that he had a working refrigerator to keep things in. After dinner he worked on the cabinet until the early hours of the morning. It was about dawn when he finally finished and fell asleep on top of his work.

When he woke up again, it was midday. He pulled some cold chicken out of his refrigerator and reheated it for breakfast. He looked at his handiwork as he ate and he was fairly pleased. It looked pretty good. A coat of stain and it should be about done. By mid-afternoon he had covered the cabinet with a nice varnish, and his last major home project (for the time being) was complete. True, he didn't have a table or chairs yet, but those would come along eventually. He didn't feel like doing anymore building at the moment.

He put on a warm cloak and picked up his broom. He was going to the cemetery. It was a long, long flight, but he didn't mind.

It'd been a while since he'd been to the cemetery where his parents were buried. The cemetery where Sirius's memorial stone was, next to his father's. He'd go today and contemplate life a little. Life and death went hand in hand more often than not, after all.

It was dark and chilly by the time Harry left the cemetery, but he didn't mind. He walked into Hogsmeade; the cemetery was just outside it. He wondered how he could have been so close all those years, and nobody had ever bothered to tell him where his parents' final resting place was until he was seventeen. They probably thought they were protecting him. But they weren't. Harry found he felt himself more peaceful whenever he came back from talking to his parents in the cemetery. Sure they weren't there to answer back, but he almost felt as if they were listening at least.

He pulled the hood of his cloak up to attract as little attention as possible and just kept walking through the town. He had half a mind to visit Honeydukes and use the secret entrance into Hogwarts. He toyed with the idea. With the approaching holiday season, the candy store was crowded with patrons who wanted to buy candy canes and chocolates. With a grin, he slipped into the store.

Without much difficulty he slipped into the back and went down to the cellar. Hidden under a layer of dust and some boxes was the trapdoor entrance he remembered. He opened it just enough so slide out of sight as he heard footsteps. He stayed there at the end of the tunnel for a moment, grinning to himself. It felt as though he was thirteen years old again.

Thinking of Fred, George, Moony, Padfoot, Prongs, and even Wormtail, he continued through the tunnel. It didn't seem as long as it used to. Soon, he found himself at the far end. He wished he had the map to know if anyone was in the hallway, but decided he must just make do with his ears. It didn't sound like there was anyone out there. No voices. No footsteps. Deciding the coast was clear he climbed out slowly. No sooner had his feet hit the ground, than he heard a voice behind him.

"Going somewhere?"

Harry froze, his back still turned to the speaker. Who'd caught him?

"As a Prefect, it'll be my duty to report you to the Headmaster. And to your Head of House of course. Turn around. Let me see your face, troublemaker."

Harry relaxed. It was only a student. For a moment he'd had the horrible feeling it was McGonagall. He turned around and drew himself up to his full height. He almost laughed when he saw the student behind him.

The girl couldn't have been older than fifteen and had a very shiny Prefect badge pinned to the front of her robes. She had a self-righteous I'm-punishing-you-for-your-own-good look on her face. The kind of look he often remembered seeing on Percy Weasley's face.

He looked at her with a charming smile. "You were saying?"

The girl seemed unable to talk for a moment, staring at him.

"What's your name?"

"Grassgreen. I mean, Silvia. Silvia Greengrass. I know who you are."

"Do you?"

"I'd know you anywhere, even without my cousin's description. You used to come into her club a lot with Hermione Granger, Ron and Ginny Weasley, and some other people. You're _Harry Potter_. You defeated…well _you _know who you defeated, and you've been a Quidditch star the last two years, and—"

"And now I'm here to visit an old friend. Say, you don't have to take me to Dumbledore do you?"

"I suppose not…since it's you," she blushed, staring at him.

"Where is everybody right now?"

"At dinner."

"Good. The Headmaster likes surprises." Harry got a gleam in his eye. "He'll be glad to see me. But don't tell him I'm here. Just go on back to dinner like nothing's wrong." He gave her a cheery wink.

"I could help you find his office if you'd like," she offered.

"No thanks. I know where it is."

"My cousin said you haven't been coming by her club much anymore."

"I've been staying out of the nightlife. I'm not much of a dancer. Two left feet."

Silvia didn't look as though she was going to believe that.

"Why don't you get back to dinner? Maybe we'll run into each other before I leave."

Silvia smiled at him and started off back toward the Great Hall for dinner. "Wait, Silvia. It's not just Dumbledore; don't tell anyone you've seen me."

She nodded, smiling, and left.

Throwing his broom up over his shoulder, Harry started off toward the Headmaster's office. To most, the halls might seem eerily empty, but to Harry, he felt like he was finally home again. Home like he hadn't been in years. Hogwarts was the first home he could ever remember having where he was loved. He spent seven of the best years of his life there. And now he was back. He wondered if he might stay a while. There was probably still a bed in hospital wing with his name on it after all the time he spent there.

He considered going up and visiting Gryffindor Tower, seeing the old common room again, but the Fat Lady would never allow a soul in without the password, even Harry Potter. If he ran into Nearly-Headless-Nick, Nick would give it to him if he knew it.

It wasn't long before he reached the gargoyle that led to the Headmaster's office. He started shooting off attempts at the password. "Fizzing Wizbee. Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans. Droobles Best-Blowing Bubblegum. Peppermint Imps. Lemon Drop. Chocolate Frogs." He tried to think of more candies.

"Might I suggest Ton Tongue Toffees?" offered a curt voice behind him.

Harry knew that voice anywhere. He turned and was face-to-face with his old Head of House. She hadn't changed since the day he met her. Maybe a few more lines here or there, and hair a shade lighter, but beyond that, she looked the same. "Professor," he breathed in surprise.

"Are you going to stand there all day, young man?"

Harry smiled and went McGonagall and gave her a one armed hug as he was still holding his broom in the other hand. "How have you been, Professor McGonagall?"

"I've been fine. You've been well? I heard you've ended your Quidditch career. News hasn't quite reached some of the students yet though."

"Yes. The world of professional sports was too stressful for me. I'm actually taking up journalism."

"Really?" she seemed somewhat surprised. "After all the trouble that journalists have caused you?"

"I know, but it's something to do. And it's relaxing."

"I suppose that's all right then. Is it too far beyond you to apply for a teaching job?"

"A teaching job?"

"Yes. Our potions professor is only temporary. We've had difficulty filling the position. Speak with the headmaster about it. I assume that's why you're here?"

"Yes. I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by."

"I have a Prefects' meeting to attend. Very good seeing you."

"You too, Professor."

McGonagall was just walking off in the direction of her office when Harry asked, on impulse, "Professor? What's the Gryffindor password?"

She smiled, a rare thing. "At present, I believe it is…Chuddley Cannons. Good evening, Mr. Potter." She turned and walked away.

"Well how do you like that," muttered Harry. Chuddley Cannons! He turned to face the gargoyle again, now armed with the Headmaster's password. "Ton Tongue Toffees," he said defiantly to the gargoyle.

He was almost sure the gargoyle smirked at him before moving aside to let him through. He went up the old steps and threw the door at the top. As expected, the only occupant in the room was Fawkes.

The bird, which had been tearing at a scrap of parchment with its beak, recognized him at once and flew to him from the desk.

Harry stroked the gorgeous phoenix and it made contented sounds. With a look around the cluttered office and a cheery wave at the portraits pretending to snooze, Harry sat back in Dumbledore's chair and put his feet on the desk, keeping Fawkes on his shoulder. He sat, eyes half closed, listening to Fawkes's song.

And that was precisely how Dumbledore found him, not five minutes later.

"Yes, that chair _is_ rather comfortable, isn't it?" asked Dumbledore pleasantly.

Harry opened one eye lazily as Fawkes flew from his shoulder to the old man's. "Good evening. Had a nice dinner, I presume?"

"Yes, it was quite enjoyable. Remarkable. You never cease to amaze me."

"And how is that?" Harry asked, sitting up in the chair and taking his feet off the desk.

"I would have thought the novelty of you unemployment would have worn off by now and you'd have come in three days ago to tell me about a new job. I read Miss Clearwater's article on you in the _Prophet_ about a week ago."

"I _am_ finding unemployment rather dull now that you mention it."

"Indeed?" he asked. There was a twinkle in Dumbledore's eye and a quizzical tone in his voice.

"Yes, no need to sound so smug, old friend. Here I am, resigned to spend my days and nights with nothing to do. There are only so many home improvement projects a person can do and only so many people to see and have lunch with."

"I told you when you graduated, Harry; there will always be work for you here."

"I know. It feels good to be back. It feels _right_ to be back. But I don't know. I just spent most of the week tidying up and fixing up my new place. It'd be a shame to leave it after all that work. I'll write for the Quibbler for a while, I think. I'm taking over Luna's column about the whereabouts of Severus Snape."

"Keep in mind, Pureblood families are always looking for tutors for their children under eleven years old. Some families have two working parents and no one to stay home and teach the children to read and write, or learn their arithmetic. And some just plain don't feel like teaching the children themselves and don't want to put their children in a Muggle school."

"I'll look into that," Harry said, not sure whether or not he would. It wasn't a bad idea actually.

"What brings you here?" Dumbledore finally sat down in the chair in front of his desk.

"I was in the neighborhood," he said absently.

"Indeed."

There was a pause. "Professor, why didn't you ever tell me until after Hogwarts about where they were?" There was no need to specify who "they" was.

"Had I told you in your first or second year, you would have undoubtedly found some way to leave the grounds and go searching for them on your own. It wouldn't have been safe. And then third year, I thought about telling you, but I was so relieved when you came to school without your guardian's consent to the village trips that I deemed it unnecessary. I thought, surely you wouldn't leave the grounds and go, not with Sirius Black chasing you. How wrong I was," Dumbledore spoke softly, sadly.

"What about fourth year? What about fifth year? What about sixth? Or even the beginning of seventh? You could have told me at any time, Professor. But you didn't. You waited until I was almost gone. You could have taken me yourself at any time; I would have been safe."

"Harry…your fourth year, so much was uncertain. I couldn't say anything; I didn't want to hurt you. In fifth year, I distanced myself from you; you know why. After that, it was too late. I didn't know how you'd react the information I'd been concealing and I didn't want to hurt you anymore, Harry. I'm sorry."

"What hurt was that you knew they were there the whole time. That's seven more years than I needed to miss them. It would have helped."

"You could have known sooner. Sirius wanted to be with your parents."

"I was too upset to have a service for him. _You_ know that. I didn't want to think about things at all that summer. I just wanted to forget."

"Forgetting isn't easy, Harry," he said gently. "I know. I have a long memory."

"I know. I wanted to forget. I tried so hard and I couldn't. I still haven't. But time has helped some." He leaned forward on the desk, head in his hands. "When you showed me where they were, the first thing I said was that the blank space by them needed a headstone for him."

"I remember. I helped you pick it out."

"I have to put new flowers on soon. The old ones are starting to die."

"Harry, it is winter. In winter, the natural world allows everything die, to sleep for a while so everything can come back with renewed strength and life."

"Not everything comes back, Professor. Not everything comes back." Harry stared at the painting of Phineas, behind the headmaster.

Phineas, probably noticing the stare and not really being asleep in the first place said, "The house is quiet now. The only person there to talk to is that painting of Sirius's mother. Merlin knows I'm sick of listening to _her_." He promptly went back to sleep.

"I was at the cemetery today, talking with them."

"I surmised as much."

"The hurt never goes away completely, does it, sir?" he asked, feeling as though he were eleven years old again and speaking to his mentor.

"No, Harry, it doesn't. I miss your parents. I miss Sirius. I miss the Longbottoms. I miss Abner Lovegood. I miss Severus. Gideon and Fabian Prewett. I miss so many of them. So many taken too young; so many young lives ruined." The Headmaster closed his eyes for a moment.

"Is Snape dead then?"

"No, Harry. As far as I can tell, the man still lives somewhere. I don't know where, but somewhere on this lonely planet, he still breathes and trudges the earth. He's a man that won't be found if he doesn't wish to be."

Harry sighed. So many lives ruined.

"Are you hungry?"

"A little."

"Cookies and milk?"

"Sounds delicious. Double chocolate are my favorite."

"Mine too. Dobby should be by any moment now to see if I need anything for the night." The old man smiled, carrying Fawkes back to his perch and refilling his water dish with his wand.

It wasn't long before Dobby did show up. "Headmaster Dumbledore sir! Do you need anything? Sorry, Headmaster Dumbledore sir, Dobby dids not see you had guest, sir." Then Dobby caught sight of just who the guest was. He ran at Harry and hugged him around the knee. "Harry Potter sir! Dobby has not seen you in the longest time. How have you been, Harry Potter?"

"Just fine, Dobby. I'm doing alright."

"Do you need anything, sirs?"

"Double-chocolate cookies, Dobby, and two glasses of milk," Harry said, with a grin.

"With white chocolate chips?" Dobby asked, bobbing his head.

"Thanks, Dobby."

"Dobby will be right back, sirs!" He vanished with a loud crack.

"Just where have you hidden yourself away this time, Harry? Hmm? This makes almost a half dozen moves since leaving Hogwarts, I believe."

"Almost. But this time, I'm staying in one place. I think I'll be very happy where I am. A new start in an old place."

"Really? And just where are you staying?"

"With very old friends."

"I wasn't aware that you knew anyone older than me," Dumbledore laughed.

Dobby returned with a large plate of cookies and two glasses of milk.

"Thanks, Dobby."

"You're very welcome, sirs! Dobby has some work to do, sirs." Dobby disappeared with a loud crack.

"You were saying?" Dumbledore started munching on the plate of cookies.

"I'm staying with people who have always been very kind to me. I'm really happy there. I probably ought to be going." He took a bite of double chocolate cookie and a large sip of milk, resulting in a milk mustache.

"It is getting a trifle late. I don't suppose you're going to leave without saying goodbye to Hagrid."

"No, I'm going to go see him now. It was great talking to you, Professor."

"You too, Harry. Don't be a stranger."

"I never am." He picked up another cookie. "One more for the road." With a wave, he picked up his broom and walked out the door. He hesitated at the bottom of the stairs. Where to go first: Hagrid's or the common room? He opted for Hagrid's and walked through the school and out the Great Hall doors. He crossed the familiar grounds and at last arrived at Hagrid's hut near the forest.

Harry knocked on the door with his broom a few times. He heard the scrape of a large chair against the floor and footsteps coming toward him.

"Comin', I'm comin'," boomed Hagrid's voice.

Harry stood there and the door opened to reveal Hagrid, looking the same as always, standing before him.

"Who's there? 'Arry! Arry, 'ow are yeh, boy? Lookin' more an' more like yer dad ev'ry day, yeh are. I haven't seen yeh in ages. Come in'!" With a bone-crushing hug, Hagrid brought Harry inside.

"It's good to see you, Hagrid."

"Good ter see yeh too, Harry, good ter see yeh too. Would yeh like a cup o' tea?"

"Sure, why not?" Harry asked, sitting at the large table.

"How've yeh been?"

"I'm doing alright. And you?" He looked around for Hagrid's old dog. Normally Fang would have been jumping all over him by now.

"I'm gettin' through. It's been lonely, this last week. Fang died on Monday." He sniffled at the memory of his beloved boarhound.

"Hagrid, I'm so sorry. I had no idea."

"It's alright. I…I miss 'im, is all. Fang was a good dog, good friend."

Harry patted Hagrid on the shoulder consolingly.

"How's yer Quidditch goin'?"

"I quit. I left Ginny Weasley to take my place on the team. I'm done being famous."

Hagrid nodded knowingly. "I thought it might not last too long. Yeh never were the sort ter like attention very much. Is there summat goin' on between Ginny an' you? Yeh two were startin' ter get close in yer last year here."

Harry smiled. "No, Hagrid, nothing between us."

"Yeh looked kinda close at Ron and Hermione's weddin' not long back." He wiggled his eyebrows and Harry had to stifle his laughter.

"Gin is just a friend. I've got a lot of girl friends, Hagrid. Ginny, Luna, Josephine, and even Daphne Greengrass a little bit."

"Yeh'll find the girl for yeh sooner 'r later, 'Arry."

"Thanks, Hagrid. I'm not looking very hard right now. Just taking some me time. So, tell me. Do you have a good batch of students this year? We didn't get to talk much at the wedding."

Hagrid and Harry talked for a while, reminiscing on old things and catching up on new things.

Eventually, it got late enough that Harry figured he ought to go. Hagrid had an early class to teach in the morning.

Harry debated whether to visit Gryffindor Tower as he planned or not and decided against it. The kids ought to be asleep by now. Then again, a good number of them would still be up, finishing homework or chatting. Harry said goodbye and flew to Hogsmeade, Apparating from there to his room.


	13. Errands to Run

**Chapter 13—Errands to Run  
**

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**Disclaimer: **I own only Josephine Clearwater. All else belongs to J. K. Rowling, with the exception of "other-space pockets" which (as far as I know) are the property of Diane Duane.

**Author's Note:** I know it's been awhile, I'm sorry. I've been positively swamped. Not to mention uninspired by this most un-Southern California weather we're experiencing. Horrible rain. I know it's necessary but it's cold and wet and I don't like playing water polo in it. It's very cold and the steam from the little bit of heat in the pool makes it impossible to see anything properly. Sorry, I'm ranting. This is a good, long chapter. I really hope everyone likes this chapter. I'm rather proud of it.

* * *

Harry slept through most of Monday, deciding he'd had a busy enough night talking to old friends. Anything else he had to do could wait.

It was about noon when he finally came downstairs, ready to face the world. He knew that Ginny would be at Quidditch practice and Mr. Weasley would be at work. Unfortunately for him, he forgot about the house's most recent addition. As it turned out, Mrs. Weasley wasn't alone in the kitchen.

Harry stopped himself in the doorway. Mrs. Weasley was at the table, chatting happily with Josephine as they ate bacon sandwiches. Jo had her back to Harry and fortunately didn't see him.

Mrs. Weasley spotted him however and was about to say something when he violently shook his head and immediately rushed out of sight, trying not to make too much noise as he hid behind the wall.

Jo looked behind her to see what Mrs. Weasley was looking at. "What was that? I thought I heard something."

"Nothing, dear. Just that reclusive boarder I was telling you about. He rarely comes out of his room and when he comes and goes, he usually uses the outdoor entrance we made for him. You were saying about your meeting with Howell Jenkins?"

"Yes, I have to meet with him again today and I think I may have finally figured out who he is. I was wondering if I could look through your library…"

Harry walked away, not caring to listen anymore. He'd heard enough; Mrs. Weasley hadn't given him away at that was enough for him. He was beginning to think she rather enjoyed this. She didn't tell him that Josephine was moving in, and didn't bother to tell Josephine that that he was living at the Burrow. He snuck a peek in Percy's room before going all the way back to the attic. Good. She was staying in Percy's room; it was much farther from the attic than Ron's old room was. Ron's old room was directly below the attic. He could see that she hadn't had time to decorate yet, but he saw clothes strewn haphazardly around the room.

Harry had given his situation a lot of thought as he got ready for his day, and knew there were a few errands he had to run if he wanted to get his life back up and running as soon as possible. His dead time was over. He could still write for Luna, as promised, but he was going to need more than that to fill his time if he didn't want go crazy. Merlin forbid he actually spend time looking for Snape! He shuddered at the thought.

First things first, he'd have to go to the Floo Department at the Ministry and get his fireplace hooked up. After that, he'd have to pay a little visit to the office of the _Daily Prophet_. Harry made a decent attempt at his hair, then Apparated to the Ministry. He took the elevator to the floor that handled and supervised the Network and made his necessary arrangements. Arthur Weasley still had a friend in the Network, which made things considerably easier for Harry. His fireplace would be in traveling order by Tuesday. A Ministry official would come by and set up the fireplace between five and six o'clock that night and he didn't even have to be home for it. All it took was for whomever the official was to get into the place through Molly Weasley (then again, that might be easier said than done). No one but the record keeper would even have to know whose fireplace it was, and the record keeper had better things to do than hunt down the fireplaces of "celebrities".

Harry's business at the Floo department was done in half an hour and he stopped by to visit Tonks in the Auror department. Tonks was looking rather unhappy behind her pile of paperwork when he showed up.

She saw him and smiled, getting out of her chair to give him a hug and consequently knocking over the stack of paper in her inbox. "Harry, it's good to see you. How've you been?"

"Not bad. Taking it easy. Yourself? I heard about your engagement with Charlie." He knelt down to help her pick up the papers and forms that had gone every which way.

Tonks smiled as he mentioned the engagement, but the smile quickly turned to a frown. "Maybe I ought to get used to all this bloody paperwork. I hate it."

"Why?" He picked up the last of the stack and put it on her desk, taking a seat in the chair in front of the desk. The little cubicle was rather cramped.

"Well, now that we're getting married Charlie is spazzing out on me."

"How do you mean?"

"He's getting worried. He thinks that being an Auror is too dangerous for me, but it's not as though his job is exactly safe either. He Apparates to Romania every day to play with dragons for goodness sakes. He says I should get a safer job. I'd die if I had to waste away at this desk all the time. I'm just sitting here now because all reports on what we've done for the year are due to Moody at the end of the year. Next week is the first of December and just look at all this rubbish I've got to take care of." She waved limply at the miserable pile.

"Charlie is only like that because he cares," Harry said, thinking of all the times Mrs. Weasley and Hermione had tried desperately to keep him out of harms' way.

"Well, sometimes I wish he'd care a little less," Tonks grumbled, looking for her quill.

"I'll let you get back to work," Harry said, standing up to go.

"Leaving already? No one's heard much from you in ages. You were rarely accessible during the end of your Quidditch career and ever since that announcement about your retirement; nobody's heard a word from you. Josephine's article made it sound as though you died or something."

"I'm not that easy to get rid of, Tonks. Tell Charlie hello for me, would you?"

"Sure thing, Harry."

Harry left with a smile and a wave, heading over to say a quick hello to Mr. Weasley before he Apparated to the office of the _Daily Prophet_.

The _Daily Prophet_ was produced in what appeared to be a rundown shoe outlet store, just outside of London. At least, the shoe outlet store is where the offices of the _Daily Prophet_ were. As for where the papers were made and sent out, no one but the men and women who worked in that area of the paper knew. It was one of the Wizarding world's best-kept secret; which is rather surprising seeing as they had so many owls to send out every morning.

Harry had learned from Jo how to get inside. The door wasn't really solid, and he walked through it, making a left turn, going down the third aisle (past sandals and water-shoes), and finding the staircase that led underground to the well-furnished offices and lobby.

The lobby was done in a light pine, with green and yellow scattered throughout the room in the form of rugs and other decorations. Opposite of the large fireplace at one end of the room, a cheery blonde girl at the front desk said, "May I help you, sir?" before even raising her head from her work. Then she looked at him and saw who she was speaking to. She knew full and well how the paper had sometimes treated him when they were at Hogwarts, and even afterwards on occasion.

"Hannah?" he asked, staring at her. "Hannah Abbot?"

"Actually, I married Terry Boot in the spring. I'm Hannah Boot."

"You and Terry, I never would have guessed. I always thought it'd be Ernie or Justin."

"People do date outside their houses, Harry. Especially when they aren't in Hogwarts anymore." She smiled, thinking of when she first started dating Terry, shortly before graduation. "What can I do for you today? My boss will get on my case if we just stand here chatting."

"I need to put an advertisement in the paper."

"What sort of advertisement? Business or personal?"

Harry stared at her and she blushed.

"I'm sorry, I have to ask; that's how I know which room to send you too. I wasn't implying that you can't get a date or something."

"That's alright. It's business." He thought to himself, _The last date I had I didn't even want! That girl was a bloody psycho.  
_

"Through that door there, and it'll be the second door on the left in the hallway. Stop by here on the way out." She went back to the files on her desk.

Harry nodded and went to the door. He paused; did he really want to do this? Yes, he decided. He would. He couldn't just sit in the attic of the Burrow, doing nothing for the rest of his life and wasting away.

He turned the handle and stepped through. The hallway wasn't as bright and cheerful as the library. The hall had a row of doors on each wall with a plaque and a description on it. The second one on his right said BUSINESS ADS.

He gave a knock.

There was no response.

He knocked again, louder.

"I'm busy!" a voice snapped.

Harry almost laughed, knocking recklessly again.

"Alright, alright, come in and make it quick," the grouchy voice said, sounding somewhat bored.

Harry knocked again, just to annoy him, and went in.

Seamus looked up and saw him. "What do you want?"

"Don't recognize me?" Harry asked.

Seamus grinned. "Could it be? Reclusive celebrity, Quidditch star retiree before he's even twenty-five?"

Harry leaned across the desk and shook hands with him. "Haven't seen you since graduation, Finnigan. How's life treating you?"

"Look at it. This is how life's treating me. Can't say I haven't seen you. I caught a couple of your games. The Cannons? You could have done better."

Harry shrugged. "The Cannons needed a new Seeker after Loorawitz lost so many fingers in that accident with the blast-ended skrewt."

"Tell me about it," grimaced Seamus. "I saw all the photographs before they even went in the paper."

"They were pretty gruesome. Life?"

"Lavender and I broke up and got back together so many times I swear I'm half made of Spell-o-tape. When I got out of Hogwarts Mum wanted to make sure I was set up with a steady job. She knows a friend here in the paper and his buddy was retiring. Easy enough job, so they stuck me with it. Only problem is, it's as boring as watching grease grow in Snape's hair. So, did you come to check in on old friends or do you have some business? I've got nothing but time here nowadays."

Harry finally sat down in the leather chair in front of the desk. The room was done up in dark wood and leather, which didn't contrast very well with all the Quidditch posters on the walls. "I'm here to put an ad in the paper."

"If you're looking to put a personal ad in, try the door down the hall, mate."

Harry stared at him. "Why does everyone keep assuming that? Hannah said the same thing almost. I've given up on dating. Never had much luck with it honestly and don't care. I want to run a business ad."

"What sort of business?" asked Seamus, looking for the appropriate forms in his desk.

"Tutoring for magical children under the age of 11."

"What subjects?"

"Math, geography, English, the basics."

"History? Magical theory?"

"Probably not. They'll get enough of that at school."

"What are the 'parameters' of this job?" he asked, writing as he spoke.

"I'm not teaching magic, I don't want to meet the parents, and I won't live at the house. The students must arrive to my teaching place via Floo."

"If you don't mind my saying so, you're nuts."

"I know." Harry grinned. "But I like my privacy. Besides if I was living at the house I'd be like a babysitter. I'd never get away."

"And the Floo? Isn't that a little paranoid?"

"Just a bit. But if they fly, then they'll know where I am. Besides, kids that young can't Apparate anyway." Harry hit a brainstorm. "Can we work this so that responses to the ad get sent to you and then you Owl them to me, since you already know it's me."

"I suppose we could…" He scratched his chin thoughtfully where his three-day beard was growing in. "How soon do you want the ad in?"

"As soon as possible. I'm going absolutely crazy in retirement."

Seamus scanned a chart. "We've got free space on page three, starting tomorrow. Write your ad to say what you want, fifty words or less, and Owl it to me by five."

"Deal."

"It'll run you 13 Galleons a month."

"That's fine. Do you want the first month's money now? I've got it."

"Just send it with your ad. Aside from ending what could have been a long and great Quidditch career way too early, what have you been up to? Still friends with Ron and Hermione I'm sure."

"Of course. They're married now. I spend a lot of time with one of Ron's sister-in-law, Josephine Clearwater. I talk to Luna Lovegood a lot. I see Neville from time to time. I don't do much of anything really."

Seamus shook his head in disbelief. "You've kept your same two best friends for almost a decade now, and you're spending your time with the Minister of Magic's sister and Loony Lovegood? It beats spending your weekends at a singles' bar."

"That's about it. I go visit Daphne over at her club sometimes. And I see Ron's sister a lot. Yesterday I paid Dumbledore a visit."  
"But what do you do with all your time? You're not stuck at a desk eight hours a day like I am."

"Oh, I just moved for the fifth or sixth time and have been doing some home improvement projects. Eating a lot too," he laughed.

"I'm bored stiff in this life. At least you're enjoying it. I picked the safe path," he said disgustedly. "The one my mum chose for me. You're a professional Quidditch player. From what I've heard, Neville opened up that greenhouse he always talked about. Dean's a real artist. Me? Nothing."

"What exactly does Dean do?" Harry asked curiously.

"Well, he tried his hand at selling his sketches for a living, but he ended up crashing on our couch for three months until he made himself known. Started out drawing for textbooks and now he works on the Martin Miggs comics. There's talk of him getting his own comic book series from scratch. He started working on one back at Hogwarts. He's got a few little short comics that make their way into the _Prophet_ from time to time."

"What do you want to do with your life?"

"I don't know. Not _this_," he said vehemently, gesturing to the room around him. "I thought I'd like to be an Auror at some point, but I didn't make all the O.W.L.s I needed for the N.E.W.T. classes."

"There's got to be something. Some dream."

"Well, I can't think of it," Seamus said, kneading his forehead and looking rather miserable.

Harry looked for a spare bit of parchment on the desk and picked up a quill. He searched out an inkbottle and jotted a few words.

_Luna Lovegood_  
_Floo Address: Lovegood Lane_

"Here. Talk to her. If there's anybody who can sort out something you don't know yourself, it's Luna." He handed the scrap to Seamus.  
Seamus frowned at it. "You sure, mate?"

"Positive. She's brilliant really, once you get to know her. She's nuts but…she's great, really great." He stood to leave. "I'll have that ad and the money to you by five." He had just reached the door when he realized where he should have been this morning. He'd promised Luna that he'd come and write! Feeling very stupid, he headed back out to the lobby to leave.  
Hannah wouldn't let him pass without a goodbye.

"Going already, Harry?" she asked.

"I was supposed to meet Luna this morning. I completely forgot about it. I can't really stay," he explained apologetically.

"Luna?" Her lip twitched in a smile. "Are you two finally dating? I wondered about that."

"No, we're not dating. It was business. I'm not seeing anyone."

"You know, I've got a friend you might like. I'll write out her name and address for you," Hannah said brightly, looking for something to write on.

"Really, it's fine. I'm not interested in dating right now."

"Well, in case you change your mind, let me give it to you anyway." She found her quill and started to write.

"No thank you. I've got to be going."

"If you're sure…"

"Yes, I'm sure," he said firmly, going up the stairs midway before Disapperating. He reappeared just outside Luna's home and knocked on the door.  
An airy voice called, "Enter, mortal!"

Shaking his head and trying not to laugh, Harry came in. He went up to the office directly and found Luna sitting quite literally in a heap of papers, surrounded on all sides.

"Sorry I'm late," he apologized.

"You're not late; we never set a time. As long as you came before midnight, you'd still be considered to be on time," she said motioning for him to sit down on one of the banana shaped chairs at the edge of pile.

"Good point."

Luna pulled three magazines out of the stack of paper around her. It looked as though they were random choice, but they weren't. "These are the last three articles I did on Snape. Our magazine comes out once a month. We've got two and half weeks until the next issue; take your time."

"Thanks." He reached into the air beside him and slightly in front and gave a tug, pulling a sort of invisible zipper that led to his other-space pocket. He stuffed the magazines in and zipped it shut. Spells of the sort had been used for centuries, connecting one piece of space to another without have to go through anything (it was similar to the theory behind Apparation), but this particular spell was fairly recent, having only been developed in the second half of the last century. It was a very useful spell and one Harry often found himself grateful for setting up a year ago. His other-space pocket was connected to his old school trunk. "Mind if I join you?"  
"Not at all," she said waving a hand.

Harry moved some papers aside to make space for him to sit. Once he was seated however, Luna piled them up on top of him again. "We're sorting these," she said, smiling pleasantly.

"By date?"

"By reverse alphabetical order of topic."

"I see…" It was a long process, but once Harry got the knack of it, things started moving quickly, and they were good company for each other. It wasn't quite the same as the lunches he spent with Jo; it was different, but nice too. Luna and he didn't banter so much with each other like he and Jo liked to do, they mostly worked in companionable silence. Whereas Jo would tell him when he was out of line, Luna offered fewer words but a patient ear.

"Do you remember Seamus Finnegan?" Harry asked.

"He was your dorm-mate, wasn't he? The Irish one."

"Yeah, I ran into him today. He might stop by. I think he could really use someone to talk to right now. He doesn't know where his life is or where it's going."

"Do any of us? Do you? Do I?" She cocked her head to the side, picking up one of the last few papers, the one on Stubby Boardman and Sirius Black.

"I suppose not. But I've got a clearer idea now anyway."

She filed away the Stubby magazine.

Harry picked up the last two and added them to the filing cabinet.

"Would you like to stay for Snarkers?" she asked, standing at last and wiggling her toes to get the feeling back into them.

"I'd like to but I ought to be going. I've got some writing to do."

"Snape?" She blinked her eyes, clearly not thinking it was his article about Snape.

"No, I'm putting an advertisement in the _Prophet_ for a little business I'm starting to help fill up my waking hours. I've got to have it Owled to Seamus by five, before he leaves the office."

"Yes. I guess you'd best be going since you don't need any help." She started for the door of the office.

Harry smacked himself in the forehead with the heel of his hand. Why hadn't he thought of asking her for help? "Would you help me with it?"

Luna turned back, looking thoughtfully at him for a moment before answering. "No. I think you can handle it. Goodbye, Harry."

"Goodbye, Luna." He gave a wave and Disapperated. In his attic-home once more he opened his Hogwarts trunk, putting the magazines from Luna on the bed and finding some things to write with. Sitting at his desk (he hated the thing and normally used it as a table rather than for any sort of writing) he got to work on his advertisement. Three drafts later, he was done.

_Teacher seeks students, __ages 5 through 10__ for instruction in __English __and/or __mathematics__. __Geography__ and/or __Muggle studies__ available upon request. Please contact __the Business Ads department__ of the _Daily Prophet_. Students must Floo to place of instruction. Classes will have no more than 5 students._

Satisfied, Harry searched for his money and sealed it in an envelope addressed to Seamus with his ad inside. It was nearly five, and Harry didn't want to be around when the official from the Ministry came to hook up his fireplace.

He grabbed a cloak and Disapperated to Hogsmeade for some dinner. As it turned out, he was just ordering his drink when the Ministry official showed up at the door and Mrs. Weasley answered.


	14. Letters

**Chapter 14—Letters**

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****Disclaimer:** I own only Josephine Clearwater. All else belongs to J. K. Rowling

**Author's Note:** Long chapter! Sorry it's been awhile. My last day of water polo is tomorrow, I started SAT preparation classes twice a week, play rehearsal for _Into the Woods_ starts Monday, and I've been out sick the last two days so I'm trying to catch up on work. To save time, I'm not going to respond to all the reviews this time, but thanks so much to everyone who did. It means a lot to me when I read those! This is a great chapter for answering mysterious questions. If you read the chapter and think of a better name for it, let me know, because I had a lot of trouble coming up with a good name.

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**When Harry got home from dinner (it was nearly nine, as he wanted to be sure the Ministry representative would be gone before he got home) he found a very irritated looking owl waiting for him. Athena, Jo's owl, must have been waiting there for quite some time for him and was clearly not pleased in the least.

Harry hastily took the letter from her leg and brought out a water dish and food for her.

She had some water before taking off quickly.

He sat on the bed and opened the letter. It was just a short message on where to meet her for lunch tomorrow.

He sent a short message back with Hedwig saying he'd meet her there at twelve. Harry looked at his fireplace. It didn't look any different, but then again it wasn't supposed to. The only difference was the little plaque on the corner reading: FLOO NETWORK 542346, PHOENIX WING PLACE.

Harry settled into bed with a good book before turning out the light for the night. He briefly wondered how much trouble it'd be to get a sink put in up in the corner so he could brush his teeth and such without having to go down to the bathroom in the rest of house.

Scarcely ten minutes after he'd sent Jo a response to her letter, another response came back.

_I'll see you tomorrow. Good night. I've got great news about that article I was working on! Can't wait to tell you about it tomorrow. Jo_

Harry grinned. He'd forgotten that she was only just downstairs and didn't know he was up here. With an idea forming in his mind, he put the letter away and fell asleep.

* * *

Harry woke up to find an owl with a package waiting for him. It was slightly after nine o'clock and the owl was looking decidedly irate as it pecked at his shoulder. He reached for his glasses groggily, sliding them up his nose while he fingers clumsily untied the package. With its burden gone, the owl flew away.

Harry opened the package. There was a letter on top that said "Read first!" Harry wisely opened that letter first.

_Harry,_  
_These letters all came by 9! Either your ad was better than it looked or people are really desperate to have somebody else teach their kids all day. I'll send more as they come, probably by lunch._

_Seamus_

Harry started the other letters. There were five of them. Seamus had been right; people were desperate to find somebody else to teach their kids. The first one was from the Pucey family; they wanted someone to teach their 5-year-old daughter, Ellen. The name sounded familiar, but it wasn't anyone Harry really knew. He vaguely recalled a Slytherin a year older than him with the name Pucey, but this had to have been an older brother or cousin. The letter hinted that Ellen was often afflicted with temper tantrums.

The next letter was from the Brocklehurst family. They had a set of twins to teach, four years old. He skimmed the other letters. One family was willing to pay a fair amount for him to teach their eight year old, but he could neither read nor write yet (they hadn't found a tutor they approved of and had no desire to teach their son themselves), and they insisted that magical theory and wizarding tradition be included in the lessons. Another family wanted their six year old to learn reading and writing for English, Latin, and French, as well as math.

He put the letters aside to be dealt with later and sent Seamus a short note of thanks. He picked up another piece of parchment and wrote a short note to Jo.

_Jo,_  
_Could we change restaurants? I've got big news and I was wondering if we could meet at the Three Broomsticks instead?_  
_Harry  
_

Once Hedwig was back, he sent the note off to Jo. It wasn't long before he got his reply, saying that she'd see him at the Three Broomsticks at their usual time.

* * *

Harry stood in front of the Three Broomsticks, his broom in one hand and two copies of the _Daily Prophet_ in the other. Jo soon arrived, right on time.

"What was so important that you had to break tradition?" she asked, clearly interested in whatever he had to say.

Harry smiled slyly, putting the proverbial carrot a little further out of her reach and sidestepping her question. "Technically I'm not breaking tradition. You and I have never eaten here together."

"True, I suppose…"

"What's that?" he asked, point at the magazine in her hand. It looked suspiciously girly, not at all like something Jo typically read.

"My latest story," she answered, beaming and all but bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Then let's go on in and you can fill me in on the facts while we eat."

"Great."

He opened the door and they went inside, waving a cheerful hello to Rosmerta as they picked out a table. Rosmerta came over, heels clicking on the floor.

"What can I do for you today?" she asked smiling.

"I'll have fish and chips and a Butterbeer," Harry said.

"I'll have the same," added Jo.

"Good, it'll be right out."

Harry turned his attention back to Jo. "So, care to tell me why you're carrying a copy of _Witch Weekly_?" He had a feeling he knew why.

"I have uncovered the mysterious past of Howell Jenkins."

"The owner of that new line of beauty products?" he asked, mildly surprised.

"The very same. Look, here's a picture of him today." She opened up the magazine and took out a label she ripped off one of the bottles of his product. It showed a good-looking and somewhat familiar man with a winning sort of smile. "Now, here's a picture of him when he was eleven. You have no idea how hard it was to get this picture." She brought out a picture of a boy with mildly crooked teeth, bushy eyebrows, and mouse brown hair. "Except for the eyes and the nose, you can hardly tell it's the same person."

Harry frowned, "Are you sure it's the same?"

"_Yes_," she said impatiently. "I enlarged both pictures and zeroed in on the eyes and nose, look at these." She took out two large photographs that just showed the eyes and the nose.

"Wow. You're right. But how does this help?"

"It doesn't really, but it was good for the back-story. Now, take a look at this picture. It's a picture of him from when you and I knew him, in your second year, my third year."

Harry's eyes widened as she handed him the picture he'd seen on such books as _Year with a Yeti _and _Gadding with Ghouls_. It was Gilderoy Lockhart himself. "But last I heard he was in St. Mungos still."

"His condition improved enough that he had a sketchy idea of his past and what his life was, and he got his mind and motor skills in working order again. They just released him last year, but there wasn't much publicity on it. People weren't so impressed with him once they found out he hadn't done everything his books said. He changed his name and appearance. And it's not the first time. You see, he was born with the name Gilderoy Lockhart, but it was a lot of work to make himself look the way he did when you and I knew him. By then, nobody remembered him as being any different. When he left St. Mungos after that accident he had he went into his brother's care—"

"And that's where you got the young Lockhart picture."

"Exactly. He doesn't want to be Gilderoy Lockhart anymore, because let's face it, he's a disgrace. So he made himself a new identity. New hair, you notice he's reddish blonde now instead of that golden blonde he was?"

"I see that. Very thorough; he even dyed his eyebrows too."

"I noticed. With a few minor changes here and there, he created a new self. He says he wants to help other people become as beautiful and happy as he is. You see, he was teased when he was younger and at Hogwarts."

"Hence all the glamour spells he used on himself to make him look the way he did when we knew him."

"Exactly."

"How did you pin any of this on him?"

"It wasn't easy, believe me. I told you he's a slither-outer. But it's done. I submitted the article and _Witch Weekly_ gave me my gold and printed it right away." She handed him the magazine as their food arrived.

He read through it. The writing was pure genius. Figuring out who Howell Jenkins really was had been no walk in the park. "It's your best story yet, Jo," he said, seriously.

"Thanks." She looked at the newspapers next to him and saw that one of them was more than a week old. "What's that doing here?"

"That's the paper that has your article about me ending my Quidditch career. Sounds rather morbid, as if I ended my career by dying. Honestly, 'Why Harry Potter is Closing the Book of His Life'?"

"I figured it suited your purpose quite nicely. It told other people to keep out of your business."

"That's exactly what I was going for in my speech."

She grinned at him, pleased, and took another bite of her fish. "And what's in that other paper?"

"I put an ad in it yesterday. Today is the first day of its run."

Jo blinked, a little surprised. "A personal ad? I guess you really _are_ taking Mrs. Weasley's advice about finding a girl to heart."

Harry bristled. "Why do people keep assuming that? It's a _business _ad. Read it for yourself." He shoved the paper to her side of the table. He'd circled his ad in red ink. "I've already gotten almost half a dozen responses."

She read the ad. "Not bad. Sounds like a great idea, except…"

"Except what?"

She snickered. "I can't picture you with a bunch of little kids running around. It just doesn't seem to fit."

"Are you saying I'm not the kid type?"

She shrugged. "You've just always been a loner for as long as I've known you. Your two best friends were in love with each other and then got married, leaving you as the odd man out. You never seemed real interested in dating or family life." She shrugged again. "But then again, you aren't the party type either."

"This isn't family life—it's teaching. I bet I'll make a fine teacher. This was Dumbledore's idea. Well, actually he wanted me to come teach potions. The professor they've got teaching it now is only temporary. But I told him I wasn't ready to leave my new home yet."

"Speaking of which, will I ever get to see it?" she asked with big, pleading puppy dog eyes.

Harry grinned. "That's why I wanted to meet you here."

"You're living in Hogsmeade?" she asked, in surprise. "I…I thought…I just figured that if you wanted to stay out of the wizarding world's eye…then again hiding among wizards would be the last thing anybody would expect…"

"Would you slow down? I wanted to meet you here so we could fly to my new place." He gestured at the broom leaning against the wall.

She looked at it dubiously. "I haven't gotten any lighter, you know. Are you sure that'll carry both of us?"

"Yes, it should. It's my _Firebolt_; it's got built in strength charms and I restrengthened them this morning."

"If you would have told me ahead of time I could have brought my broom and just followed you." She wasn't particularly fond of flying, but had a broom for emergencies and to use when necessary.

"Ah, but then I couldn't blindfold you," he said, a smile creeping onto his face. He pulled out a scarf.

"You're not really going to do that, are you?" she asked, a little taken aback.

"Why not?" he teased.

"Please don't…"

"It'll be fun. Trust me. Aren't you always up for a new adventure?"

"No. That's _you_."

"Come on, it'll be fun…" he wheedled.

"Oh…alright. I don't know why I let you talk me into these sorts of things," she said huffily.

Harry smiled. "Thanks, Jo."

Rosmerta came back over. "Anything else, kids?"

"No, that'll be all."

She left them a bill. "Have fun," she said with a wink.

Harry looked at the bill and left the money on the table. He picked up his broom and newspapers and Jo followed him outside. It was a breezy day out, not too cold considering the time of year it was. He told Jo to straddle the broom and he put the blindfold on her. Taking his own seat on the broom he instructed her to hold on to his waist and he kicked up from the ground. He knew it was a little bit of a stretch on the spell, with two of them on the broom and Jo not exactly a featherweight, but he felt confident in the _Firebolt_'s power. It hadn't failed him before.

The flight took a little longer than it normally would have, but eventually Harry landed the broom on his little landing pad. "You can let go now," he said. "It's over. But don't take the blindfold off yet."

Jo let go of him cautiously and swung her leg around off of the broom.

He leaned the broom up by the door and took her hand, bringing her inside the little home he'd made. "Three…two…one…" He took off the blindfold and let her look around.

As she looked around, he suddenly found himself feeling a little self-conscious about his new home.

"It's not very big, but it's homey. And you can't beat the rest of the tenants in the building. Very sweet people. And the landing pad outside was installed just before I got here. The fireplace too."

Jo had been looking around, not saying anything. She turned back to him, smiling. "I like it. You did a great job with the decorating. This place feels happy. Free. Fun. Comfortable. I approve," she said.

Harry smiled, pleased that she liked it. "This is all that's mine, but do you want to see the rest of the place? The landlady won't mind."

"Sure. I'd like to meet her."

"Good. She'll be glad to see me. I don't usually make it into the rest of the place except to shower and such." He led her to the trapdoor and opened it, the stairs coming down. He started down the stairs first, and she followed.

She reached the bottom and looked around thoughtfully.

He took her hand with one hand and gestured to the various rooms with the other, playing the cheerful tour guide. "This is the bathroom on the left. On the right here is a vacant apartment. Next there's the landlady and her husband's apartment." He pointed out the different rooms, talking in this sort of way until he reached Percy's old room. "I haven't met the occupant of this apartment yet, but I'm told she's a fantastic journalist though. Very charming." He grinned at her and they continued down the stairs into the kitchen.

"So, _you're_ the reclusive boarder Mrs. Weasley was talking about," Jo said.

"Looks that way," he said, grinning. "She didn't tell me you were here either. I had to find out through outside sources."

"My mother _did_ mention you stopping by."

"True, but she wasn't my source. Actually it was, R—"

"Harry! Josephine!" Mrs. Weasley came and enveloped them both in a big hug. "It's so good to see you. I see both of you are here together. Did you meet on the staircase?"

"No, actually we were out at lunch I decided I shouldn't hide anymore. I already told Hermione and Ron that I was here. I shouldn't hide from my friends. Josephine and I are going to go out shopping in a bit."

"Really?" Mrs. Weasley eyed them thoughtfully.

Harry looked down and he realized he was still holding Jo's hand from when he pretended to be her tour guide through the house. He hastily let go. He looked up and could have sworn that Mrs. Weasley was about to laugh, but then she resumed her usual friendly face.

"Why don't you two have desert in the kitchen with me and tell me what you're going to shop for?" she asked, in a way that didn't really allow for it to be a question.

"Sure, Mrs. Weasley," Jo said brightly starting off toward the kitchen, Harry following.

Mrs. Weasley fixed them bowls of ice cream and the three of them sat around the table. "So, what are the two of you going to be shopping for?"

"I figured we could get a couple of more things for my room. I don't have a table and chairs up there yet," Harry said.

"That's the other part of why he brought me here," added Jo. "So I could look and see what else he needed."

"Won't having a table and chairs be a little cramped up there?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"No, we'll make it work. That's part of why he invited me over, so he wouldn't make go out and buy something that didn't fit up there," Jo said smoothly.

They finished up there ice cream and got ready to go out.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay? Arthur will be home soon. He was planning on working a half day today."

"That's all right, Mrs. Weasley. We'll see you both later," Harry said, not thinking.

"So you'll have dinner with us?" Mrs. Weasley asked brightly.

Harry knew he was nailed down. He couldn't say no; he hadn't eaten with the family since Ginny's celebration dinner. "Of course. Right, Josephine?"

"Right," she said.

They said goodbye and went outside to decide where they were going to Apperate to.

They hadn't been gone more than a couple of minutes and Mrs. Weasley had just finished cleaning up the bowls and spoons when her husband came home.

He walked in behind her and put his arms around her. "Good afternoon, love," he whispered.

"Hello, Arthur," she said, turning around and smiling.

He kissed her and asked, "Are you putting that ice cream away?"

"No, just grab a couple of bowls."

He let go over her and went to the cupboard to get out spoons. "We can eat right out of the carton."

She sat down at the table and he joined her. "The kids left just a few minutes ago."

"Which ones?"

"Harry and Jospehine."

"Oh, really? We don't see much of them anymore."

"Yes. They came here _together_. And they left _together_."

"You think something's going on?" he asked, mildly surprised.

"I don't know, but it wouldn't surprise me." She smiled fondly. "I think they'd be good for each other."

"So far you _have_ called all the other matches of our children," he said, taking a big spoonful out of the carton and shoving it in his mouth.

"Yes. If only I could find out who Ginny is seeing and get those twins settled down, everything would be perfect. Though I really ought to get working on Bill and Marie to set a date. Charlie and Tonks too."

"I'm sure you'll manage, dear," Arthur said, feeding her a spoonful of ice cream. "You always do."

She smiled fondly at him.


	15. An Adoring Fan

**Chapter 15—An Adoring Fan**

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**Disclaimer:** I own only Josephine Clearwater and Eloise Millowbrook. All else belongs to J. K. Rowling.

**Author's Note:** I know this is really soon, but I was feeling creative and I didn't want to do my homework. This chapter went in a whole different direction from where I'd planned to take it, so I'm especially interested to see what everybody things of it.

* * *

Harry and Josephine Apparated to a rather hidden corner that wizards and witches commonly used to get in and out of the particular underground station they were at. Making sure nobody was around, they stepped forward as if they'd been in the station all the while. A train was just pulling up.

"Want to go for a ride?" Harry asked.

"Sure. And while we do you can tell me how much of what you said was made up for Mrs. Weasley and how much is true," she said cheerily.

Harry tried to keep from sighing as he boarded the train behind her. It was going to be a long day. He settled into a seat next to her. "Alright, start the questioning."

"First off, are you really going start telling everybody where you are?"

"You, Ron, and Hermione already know. Ginny'll find out soon enough. I'll mention it to Luna and Neville the next time I see them. There's not much of anyone tell beyond them."

"And Dumbledore?"

"I probably ought to tell him too."

She started ticking off names on her fingers. "And Hagrid, and Remus, and Tonks, and Charlie, and B—"

Harry put his hands over his ears. "Alright! What do you want me to do? Send out change of address cards to everyone I know?" he asked sarcastically.

"It's the usual thing."

He glowered at her.

"Next, are you really planning on putting a table and chairs up there? You don't have much room as it is," she pointed out, not mincing words.

"I need chairs. When I had Ron and Hermione over there was nowhere for them to sit. That chair behind my desk is just about broken. All I've got to sit on is my bed."

"And the table?"

"I'm not sure. I'm going to need something for my students to work at though."

"We'll see what we can dig up. You _did_ really want to come shopping with me, right?" she asked.

"Oh, of course not," he teased.

She smacked him on the arm.

"I want to stay out of the house until dinner," he said seriously.

"Why?"

"Oh, I was just thinking that it might be amusing to play a little trick on Ginny. She knows you moved in, right?"

"Of course she does," Jo said, snorting. "Percy's old room isn't quite as private as your attic."

"Though it is a little roomier. I've got to watch out for the low ceiling on one end. Now, about that…"

"About what?" she asked.

"I was thinking we could go shopping for your room too. It was looking a little bare."

"When? You barely opened the door when we went by today," she pointed out.

Harry admitted, "Well, I may have looked in to see which room you had. You were with Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen at the time."

"I thought I heard something! I should have known it was you. I was too busy talking with her about my Lockhart article to make up an excuse to go investigate the 'mysterious boarder' she was talking about," Jo said, looking a little grim. She hated to miss out on figuring out a puzzle.

A middle-aged woman sitting across the aisle from them leaned over eagerly. "Were you by any chance talking about _Gilderoy_ Lockhart?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact we were," Jo said.

"Did you say it was _your_ article?" the woman asked, excitedly.

"Yes…"

"Then you must be Josephine Clearwater." The woman stuck out her hand. "I've been an avid reader of _Witch Weekly_ since I was eleven and a Lockhart fan since the publishing of his first book. Your article was so fascinating. I couldn't believe it. I've got all the Lockhart books. I fancied him when I was younger. I nearly burned all of his books at his disgrace in '93, but he is so good looking. Even all these years later he's still a heartthrob."

Harry had to restrain himself from gagging. Any memory involving Lockhart was _not_ a happy one for him. He shuddered, thinking of answering Lockhart's fan mail. He looked at that the woman and saw that what he'd taken for a dress was indeed a full set of brilliant purple wizarding robes in a shade of violet that nobody but Dumbledore ought to wear.

"You've been reading _Witch Weekly _since you were _eleven_?" Jo asked, in a horrified whisper.

"Oh, yes, will you be doing more articles for them?"

"Not if they offered me a vault full of gold!" she said firmly, attracting the attention of a few listeners. She lowered her voice. "That magazine is a pile of brain melting dribble. It doesn't even deserve to be called a magazine. I have no idea _why_ anybody but airheads would buy it. It's just full of lip gloss, and dating advice, and gossip. There are better things for people to spend their money. I can't believe you've been an idiot enough to buy that magazine for so many decades!"

The woman looked highly offended, though it was hard to say whether she was most offended about the decades comment, the idiot comment, or the general insults to the magazine. She leaned across Harry to whisper in Jo's face, "If there weren't Muggles on board I'd hex you here and now."

"Well, there's no law against using fists in front of them," retorted Jo, pulling back her arm to take a swing at her.

The witch brought back her purse—which was heavier than it looked, as it had a fair amount of wizard money in it—and was about to hit Jo in the head with it.

Harry stood up to stop the blows that were about to cross over him.

At that moment, the train jerked to a halt and Harry fell back in his seat, any chance of stopping the fight long gone. Two of the four other passengers on the car got off. No new ones got on; at least, they didn't get into their carriage. It soon came to uncontrolled magic, and then they drew their wands.

Harry did the best thing he could think to do, "_Finite incantem_!"

Both spells stopped.

Harry looked around. There were still two Muggles onboard, clearly afraid. Harry couldn't blame them. With Jo's first accidental spell, she was so angry the other witch's sleeve caught fire. Then the other witch's spell created a little rain cloud that poured over Jo and then started to produce thunder. It had all gone downhill from there.

Now, with all spells stopped, Harry supposed he ought to _Obliviate_ the memories of the witnesses before the Ministry officials showed up. He wondered which branch it would be. Accidental magic reversal squad perhaps? Or maybe something more serious. He approached the Muggles, who were cowering behind their seats, waiting for the next soonest stop where they could vacate the train; they didn't care which stop it was.

Harry approached them slowly, wand drawn.

Unfortunately, that's exactly how he was when the officials came, not two seconds later. "Alright, sir, freeze. Do not attempt to cast a spell. I repeat, do not attempt to cast a spell." A hand was clamped around Harry's wrist and his wand was taken away from him. The man flashed a badge at him. "Would you care to tell me what happened and why you're about to curse these Muggles?" he asked snootily.

Harry stared at him. "Zacharias Smith. How did I know you'd join the law?"

The officer looked closely at him. "Harry Potter? Well that's no excuse. You're not getting away with this the way you got away with everything at school. We're going to have to take you in."

His partner broke in, "I don't think he was about to curse those Muggles, Smith. The real fight looks like it was over here. We'd better take these two into St. Mungos. They did some decent damage on each other. I'll take all three of them to the hospital and you can meet us there after you do the memory wipe on those Muggles."

"But, Turpin, we ought to ge—"

"No buts, Smith. We don't need the any other departments on this one. Take care of the memory modification yourself and don't go bugging Pucey's department about coming out and doing it. I'll see you at the hospital." She turned her back on him. "Well, can I trust you to Apparate there yourself or do I need to include you on the transit spell? I don't want to waste the extra energy if I can help it. This'll be a long day as it is." The transit spell was similar to a portkey and would allow her to get Jo and the other witch to the hospital without them possibly splinching themselves. It was a difficult spell, but useful in cases like this.

"I'll Apparate directly there," he said quickly.

"You'd better, or Zach and I'll have a warrant after you fast that you can say 'I quit Quidditch'," she warned.

It wasn't long before Harry found himself in a starchy white medical ward with Jo and Eloise Millowbrook (the other witch) being treated on nearby beds while he sat on another one to be questioned by Lisa Turpin.

"So let me get this straight, you and Miss Clearwater were sitting and having a quiet discussion and Ms. Millowbrook invited herself in?"

"We weren't having a quiet discussion. We were talking. Normal voice level. It wasn't as though we were discussing anything Muggles shouldn't hear; they wouldn't know who Lockhart is anyway. She heard us mention him and started questioning us. She said some things that upset Josephine and Josephine told her so."

"Who started the aggressions?" Lisa Turpin asked, somewhat bored.

"Verbally, I guess it was Josephine. But then Ms. Millowbrook was the one that was so offended she threatened to hex her."

"Who threw the first punch?"

"I'm not sure. It might have been Josephine."

"You were standing right there. Why don't you know?"

"Because the train started up again and I lost my footing. By the time I got up they were throwing punches and then the uncontrolled magic started."

"You're sure it was accidental?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I've done enough of it in my lifetime to recognize it. They weren't using their wands and it wasn't very controlled."

"Are you aware, Mr. Potter, that Ms. Millowbrook suffered burns on her arm?"

"No, I wasn't aware that the damage had spread that far. I only saw her sleeve on fire," he said, truthfully. He was getting awful sick of this questioning. But, he felt better off doing it here while Jo was being treated (some electrical bolts had come out of Millowbrook's little thundercloud and a mild one hit her). Besides, here, the press was less likely to catch wind of what was going on. That was the last thing he needed. Somebody like Rita Skeeter would have a field day with this. They'd turn the story into the tale of Harry Potter and his beloved being attacked by an irate fan on the underground. He snorted. It was too funny to think about.

"Is something amusing about all this?" Lisa asked sharply.

Harry shook his head. He'd never really known Lisa at Hogwarts. Sure he might have had a class or two together, but he wouldn't even have recognized her today if Zacharias Smith hadn't said her name. "Did you try and do anything to stop all this?"

"Yes. I tried to separate them when they first started fighting, but I was unsuccessful. Once magic became involved I used the all-purpose cutoff spell. I was going to modify the memory of the Muggles when you and Smith showed up." A horrible thought struck his mind. Ginny and Zacharias had dated for a brief period back in Hogwarts (about two weeks). He wondered if maybe he was whom Ginny was seeing. "Is he dating anyone?"

Lisa looked at him and said dryly, "Sorry, you're not his type."

Harry almost threw up at the thought. "No! I was talking about somebody else." He shuddered. Zacharias Smith was perhaps one of the most irritating people he knew.

"I was teasing." She looked over her shoulder to make sure Smith was firmly occupied trying to get answers out of Josephine and Eloise. "His girlfriend dumped him a week and a half ago. Came into the office the next day with his eyes all puffy and red." She made a tutting sound of disapproval.

It was another hour before things were all wrapped up and ready to go. Zacharias still thought Harry should be taken to the Ministry for questioning, but Lisa, being the senior of the two of them, said it was unnecessary.

Eloise Millowbrook needed to stay overnight to make sure nothing odd was going to happen to her healing burns (you never could tell what could happen when magical fire was concerned) though Jo was declared free to go home, after she was seen by a visitor.

Harry stayed by her bed.

"Who in Merlin's name could possibly even know I'm here?" asked Jo.

"Nothing gets by me," answered a voice.

Harry and Jo looked up to see who was coming in, though Jo recognized the voice immediately.

"I guess being in high positions has advantages, huh, sis?" Josephine said weakly.

"I can't believe you were stupid enough to pick a fight, Josephine. Especially with Muggles around. I thought you knew better," Penelope scolded.

Jo protested, "Millowbrook is a complete idiot! Who spends their whole life reading _Witch Weekly_?"

"Isn't that a little hypocritical of you? You just wrote an article for _Witch Weekly_."

"And that's my last article for them. I'm not doing another one. I should have sold it somewhere else. Anywhere else. Giving it away to the _Quibbler_ would have been better than selling to _Witch Weekly_," Jo growled. She turned to Harry. "You said as much when I told you I was going to do the article."

"I did?" he asked, mildly surprised.

"Yes. You didn't think it was very like me to do an article just because they wanted me too. You were right. I shouldn't have done it."

"The _Quibbler_ does pay its journalists now, I think," he said offhandedly.

"Josephine, none of that matters. You shouldn't have fought with her, plain and simple," her sister reprimanded. "You could have gotten seriously hurt. And, Harry, I thought you had better sense than to let her get in a fight."

Harry was about to reply when Jo cut in yet again. "First of all, Penny, he didn't _let_ me do anything. I do what I want."

"That clearly hasn't been doing you very well then, has it? Maybe you ought to consider letting someone else tell you what to do," her sister said.

"Penny, she's a _Lockhart_ fan for cryin' out loud! Don't you remember having to take Lockhart's class in your sixth year? Pure misery!"

"At least he was nice to look at while we were miserable," she offered.

"But you didn't learn anything!"

"Yes, I did. I took advantage of his willingness to autograph anything that stayed still and got permission to sign out some advanced defense against the dark arts books so I could study on my own. You should have done the same."

Harry had to admit (if not aloud) that that certainly was smart thinking; then again she was a Ravenclaw. He and his friends had done the same after all; the only difference was that they'd used the permission slip to get a book on making their Polyjuice potion.

"Penelope, go back to your office or your husband, or wherever," Josephine said, tired.

"I only came to help," she said.

"And a big help you've been, now get out of here. Send Percy my love and all that."

"Percy was just saying how he wishes you'd stop by for dinner more often. Would you like to come tonight?" Penelope asked, standing up and sounding a little sad. "You're both welcome to," she added, looking at Harry.

Jo cut in, "Sorry, we've got plans. We promised to have dinner with Percy's parents tonight. Maybe some other time."

"All right then. I guess I'd better get back to the Ministry. Good to see you both." Penelope left.

Harry turned to Jo. "You didn't have to be so rude to her, Jo."

|"Yes, I did. She gets on my nerves. She and Percy thoroughly deserve each other," Jo said, glaring at the door crossly as she got out of the bed. "Now I'm glad you agreed to dinner at the Burrow. It just made my life a heck of a lot easier."

"Are you sure you're ready to go?" he asked. He didn't want her leaving if she was still dizzy.

"I'm fine. Let's get out of here. We still have some time left to go shopping."

They walked out, but Eloise Millowbrook was still in the next bed and had heard every word that had passed. She was already getting ideas. She'd have to get her cousin to come over right away. This was going to be big.

"Nurse! I need you to Owl a relative of mine."

The mediwitch came over with ink, a quill, and parchment. "Just let me know when you're ready and I'll send it off."


	16. At the Burrow

**Chapter 16—At the Burrow**

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**Disclaimer: **I own only Josephine Clearwater and Midge.

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Harry and Jo Apperated back to his "apartment" with their purchases. In the end they'd found a good thrift shop and Harry got a hold of a round table and a half dozen chairs that he could refinish and reupholster in his spare time; it'd give him another project to do. They didn't have time to find much of anything for Jo's room, but he promised he'd go with her into the village soon and they could get some stuff from the hardware store to start repainting. He didn't particularly look forward to going back into the hardware store, but it might not be so bad as long as he had somebody with him.

"Ginny should be home already. Let's come in from outside."

"Why?"

"Don't you want to mess with her head a little?" he asked.

Jo grinned and sat on the bed. "Just what exactly did you have in mind?"

After about five minutes of plotting and scheming, Harry and Jo Apparated to just outside the Burrow. They walked to the door and knocked. Mrs. Weasley answered. "Hello, Harry, Josephine. You didn't have to knock. You're not guests."

"Ginny doesn't know that." He gave a smile and a wink. Of course Ginny knew Jo was living at the Burrow, but she didn't know _he_ was.

"Oh, I see," said Mrs. Weasley. "She's already inside setting the table."

"Glad to hear it," Josephine said. "I'm starved."

They followed Mrs. Weasley into the kitchen.

Ginny was setting the table for her parents. She felt as though she was ten years old again, doing things like this for them, but it made her mother happy. She was the baby of the family, so she indulged them. She could humor her parents for a little while and let them think she was ten years old again. It was a small price to pay for a lifetime of love.

Ginny looked up as she heard people entering the kitchen. "Hey, Josephine. How are you?" She looked over and saw Harry. "Harry! I didn't know you were coming." She ran over and gave him a hug.

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Harry came over today to pick Josephine up for some shopping and I invited him to come back for dinner."

"So here I am," he said, smiling.

Arthur Weasley stepped into the kitchen, coming over and pecking his wife on the cheek. "Hello, Molly, dinner ready? Harry, Josephine, it's good to see you here. We haven't all had dinner here since Ginny's celebration dinner."

"I think Harry's going to be having a lot more dinners here with us," Mrs. Weasley said, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Dinner's ready. Ginny, set another place for Harry and we can all eat." She hugged her husband, whispering something in his ear.

He smiled and they all sat down to the dinner Mrs. Weasley had cooked for them.

The topics over dinner ranged from Quidditch, to Harry's work, to the state of things at the Ministry, to interrogating Ginny about her love life.

"Mum," she whined. "We've been over this."

"Why won't you tell me who you're seeing, Ginny? I know you've been sneaking around behind my back seeing someone."

"He's a nice boy, Mum. You'd approve. That's all you need to know right now."

"If I'd approve then why don't you just tell me who he is? I'm sure the family would love him since obviously meets your expectations. I trust your judgment," Mrs. Weasley said, serving out another slice of chocolate cake to Harry.

"Mum, I have my own reasons for not saying who I'm dating." Yes, she had six reasons for not revealing whom she was dating. Those six reasons all had freckles and red hair. An idea sparked as what Luna said came back to her. She knew Harry would hate her for this but she desperately wanted to throw the spotlight off of herself. "Besides, you aren't badgering Harry about whoever it is he's dating."

"Harry isn't seeing anyone. He would have told me if were. Isn't that right, Harry dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, turning her attention to Harry.

Harry shot Ginny a glare out of the corner of his eye. "I'm not seeing anyone right now, Mrs. Weasley."

Ginny decided to be evil. She said in a sweet voice, "But what about that mystery girl Luna said you were out with the other night? When the rest of us were all at _The Bouncing Ferret_?"

Harry felt his face go red enough to rival an embarrassed Ron's face.

Jo came to his rescue. "Harry was out with me picking curtains for his flat. Honestly, it wasn't a date. Luna got her information wrong. You really should see his new flat some time, Ginny. It's really nicely decorated." She gave a smile that matched the voice Ginny had used.

"You've seen his new flat?" Ginny asked.

"Oh yes. It looks terrific."

"Ron and Hermione agree. They saw the place before it was decorated and think it looks fantastic now," Harry added.

Ginny's ears went red. "Am I the only one who doesn't know where you're living now?" she asked angrily.

"Luna and Neville don't know either," Jo said consolingly, patting her hand.

Ginny glared at her.

"I'm so full. Thank you so much for the dinner, Mrs. Weasley. It was delicious. I'm getting a little tired. I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight, everyone," Josephine said, yawning and standing up.

Harry grinned. "Goodnight. Thanks for inviting me to dinner, Mrs. Weasley. I think I'll be coming more often." It was true; once Ginny knew he was living here he wouldn't hide up in his room so much.

Jo started toward the stairs and Harry followed, keeping up with her stride for stride.

Ginny watched Harry and Josephine go up the stairs together. She stared. It didn't sound as though they were just going up to chat for a bit. Sure they were adults, but…her parents were just sitting there doing nothing. That wasn't like them at all.

"So, Ginny," continued her mother, about 98 percent sure that Harry and Josephine were going to _separate_ bedrooms, "Tell me about this beaux of yours…"

Meanwhile, Harry and Jo were standing just outside Jo's room, trying desperately not to crack a rib as they contained their laughter as best they could. Jo put a finger to her lips and motioned him to come inside.

When the door was shut firmly, Harry finally allowed himself to start laughing and collapse onto the chair next to the desk. "What I wouldn't give to see the look on Ginny's face right now!"

Jo laughed in agreement and perched herself on top of the desk next to the chair where he was sitting.

"Got any plans for tomorrow?" he asked.

"None to speak of. Though I might go on and see Luna at some point. Why? What did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking that we could have breakfast downstairs and then take a walk into town.

We could see what we can find for this room." He looked around the plain walls. Percy, being Percy, had never been much of one for decorating a space and making it his own. With him and any sign of him gone the room would have been gloomy if not for Jo's clothes and things scattered around haphazardly.

"Sounds like a good plan except for the walking part." She made a face down at him, sticking her tongue out like a five year old.

"It'll be good for you," he coaxed.

She hesitated. "I'll do it," she said grudgingly. "I won't like it, but I'll do it."

Harry grinned at her.

"Don't be so happy," she grumbled, picking up a roll of parchment and hitting him on the head with it. "What are you going to do the rest of the night?"

"I'll probably spend it sorting through letters. Seamus was supposed to forward them to me. I've got to pick my students."

Jo threw back her head and laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"You're Sorting them by who would fit into House Potter," she said, getting a mental image of the Sorting Hat divvying up first years into Ravenclaws, Slytherins, Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Potters. Or maybe Potterdors? Potterpuffs? Potterins Potterhars? Potthars?

"Bah. I'm leaving. I've got mail to take care of. See you in the morning." He got up and went to the door.

"The Potter House mascot can be a sheep," she said, trying to figure out appropriate house colors.

Harry waved a hand at her and went into the hallway. It was deserted. Quietly, so as not to disturb anyone, he made his way to his room. On his bed was a package that looked as though it must have taken several owls to carry.

He settled himself on the bed, lighting a candle with his wand and setting it to hover over him. He summoned parchment, ink, and a quill from his desk and got to work. There had to be at the very least twenty letters waiting for him here in addition to the ones he'd read earlier. He summoned his earlier letters to him. He got started by creating lists and charts. He categorized the applicants by age, attitude, family, and what subjects they wanted to learn. In the end he had a list of fifteen students he'd be willing to teach. Of the others, it sounded like a couple of them were prone to tantrums, eight had parents that wanted him to teach subjects he didn't want to teach, and three were too young to be taught as far as he was concerned. He kept the family issue in mind, but didn't make it a priority. So what if he was teaching children belonging to families he wasn't particularly fond of? Well, that was an understatement, but maybe he could counteract some of what their parents taught them.

He wrote a response to each letter, declining politely those he wasn't interested in, and writing to the rest that he'd be in touch to set up a lesson schedule. He wrote that they should send possible scheduling opportunities to the Business Ads department of the _Daily Prophet_ and that the only time he was unavailable was Tuesdays during lunch. He put the stack of letters in envelopes and put the whole stack by his bed. He'd go to the post office in Hogsmeade in the morning and send them all out with owls. There was no reason for Hedwig to make this many trips. Seamus would probably kill him with all the replies he got. He'd have to take the ad out of the paper too, before he got any more replies. It was too late to keep it from going in tomorrow's issue, but he'd send Seamus a note about getting it out of there for the next day. He wrote one more letter, to Seamus, telling him to take the ad out of the paper. Finally, exhausted, he went to sleep.

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When Harry woke up, he found he was still tired. It was barely eight o'clock. He thought about going back to bed but decided he'd better go down to breakfast to explain his gag to Ginny, just in case her parents hadn't told her yet or she hadn't figured it out.

He found a letter on his chest and opened it. It was an illustration of the "Potthar" House crest. The house colors were purple and white, and the mascot was a sheep. On the bottom was written in neat printing: THE FAMOUS WORDS OF THE HOUSE FOUNDER: "BAH"

Harry laughed. He'd have to show this one to Ron. Jo must have sent it with her Owl after he'd gone to sleep. Still bleary-eyed, he started down the stairs, still in his pajamas. Near the end of the staircase he ran into Jo.

"Morning," he said, stifling a yawn.

"Morning," she grumbled. Josephine was not a morning person.

"I got your note," he grinned.

"Glad you liked it. No decent person should be up at this hour," she said, tottering down the stairs next to Harry.

They entered the kitchen to find Ginny, Mr. Weasley, and Mrs. Weasley sitting down to breakfast. Mrs. Weasley got up to fetch plates for them. Mr. Weasley greeted them; he knew full and well that both of them lived in separate rooms in the house and that the little show the night before had only been put on to play a little joke on Ginny.

Ginny however, stared. She'd just started reading the _Daily Prophet_ when they came in. Their presence, in addition to the information the last night confirmed what she was reading. She tried to picture it. Harry and Josephine had always seemed to have a little chemistry, but nothing particularly noticeable. There were some unofficial bets on the two of them, but there were similar bets on Harry and Luna too. Even a bet on him and Daphne Greengrass. But when it came down to it, it was hard to imagine Harry dating anyone. She shot them a look.

"Hey, Ginny," Harry said, sitting down at the table.

"Er, you look tired. Did you sleep well last night?" She couldn't believe she was asking this.

"Not really. I was up half the night," he said, yawning.

_That's it_, she thought. _It confirms it. I never would have guessed this writer to ever tell a true story, but the facts are sitting here in front of me_. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what, Ginny?" asked Josephine, starting to eat a piece of toast.

"About you two."

"What about us?"

"That you're _dating_!"

Harry laughed, looking around on the table for some jam for his toast. "You honestly believed our little stunt last night? We weren't _that_ convincing. I'm living here."

"So you're living together?" she asked. She was always the last to know everything. Her friends still regarded her as a child! Not their equal. She was so mad she was shocked that steam wasn't coming out of her ears.

"We're living several floors apart, Gin," Jo said, puzzled.

"I'm renting the attic."

Ginny stared back and forward between the two of them, not sure exactly what to believe anymore.

"We just put on that little act last night as a joke. We went up to separate rooms." His eyes widened. "Oh, Merlin! You didn't actually think…we…Gin! You know us better than that. Or, at least I thought you did. Did you think I'd start dating somebody without telling the rest of you what was going on?"

"If you're not dating Josephine, then I think you'd better read this," Ginny said seriously, handing over the front page of the paper.

Harry stared at the article. There was a photograph of him scowling at the camera; he was about seventeen or so in the picture.

_This reporter's very own cousin was witness to an astounding event yesterday afternoon. Harry Potter, who has been completely out of the public eye since the day he announced his retirement from Quidditch, was seen on the London underground train with none other than Josephine Clearwater, younger sister of our present Ministress of Magic. Out for a romantic afternoon on the town, the two were sitting cozily together discussing Clearwater's most recent article when this reporter's cousin—known henceforth in this article as Midge to protect her identity—conversationally asked about the article. Apparently Clearwater has as fiery a temper as Potter's former flame, Ginny Weasley (new Seeker for the Chuddley Cannons). Clearwater took offense at an innocent comment and started attacking Midge. When Ministry representatives arrived on the scene, it appeared that Potter was ready to attack two Muggle bystanders in the carriage with them. Fortunately, the Ministry representatives did arrive before anything untoward happened to them. At St. Mungos, Potter was closely questioned about the whole incident while Midge and Clearwater were treated for their injuries. The Ministress of Magic herself visited to ensure her sister's well being, though she wasn't greeted particularly kindly by her sister. Clearwater grew angry again and dismissed her sister's invitation to dinner. She left the hospital shortly after to continue her date with Potter and then have dinner with him. From there who knows what happened?_

The article was by Rita Skeeter and entitled "The-Boy-Who-Lived-to-Date-A-Madwoman."

Harry stared. He couldn't believe what he was reading! He should have known no good would come out of that fight.

"Here, let me read it," Jo said, grabbing the paper since neither Ginny nor Harry was saying anything about what was in it.

"That conniving little witch!" Harry bellowed, glaring at the wall. "She must have sent for Skeeter the moment we left St. Mungos!"

Mr. Weasley looked over at him, somewhat bewildered. Ginny had been the first read the paper this morning, so naturally he was a little in the dark. "Who? Rita Skeeter?"

The words that caught Mrs. Weasley's ear however weren't the name of the despised reporter, but rather the name of the hospital. "St. Mungos? Was somebody hurt?" She hurried over to read the paper over her husband's shoulder.

Ginny was a little surprised to see Harry so angry. She had thought…

Harry caught her eye. "Ginny and I need to talk, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said firmly, shocked that Ginny would think an article by Rita Skeeter would have an ounce of truth in it about that sort of thing. "Josephine?" he asked, looking at her.

She nodded. "Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley, I'll explain everything about that article, just sit down a moment…"

Harry took Ginny's hand and led her to the attic, pausing only long enough to say the password for the stairs to come down.

"Wow. It looks amazing up here," she said, looking around.

"Thanks. It was a lot of work. Now, what was all that about down there?" he asked, a little angry.

"I should ask you the same question," she retorted. "I'm never _mature_ enough to know all your secrets apparently."

"What secrets? We were just messing with your head last night. It was all a joke."

She looked doubtful. "I'm the only one who didn't know you were here."

"That's not true. Sure you were the only one at the table who didn't know, but…Ron and Hermione know because I needed help with a permanent cool spell and when I brought them here Ron recognized where he was. Josephine knows because I wanted her help picking out tables and chairs. Nobody else knows. Now _you_ do."

"What about all the other funny business down there? It's not as though we haven't all considered the possibility of you two together, but it still kind of took me by surprise down there…"

"What?" he asked, flabbergasted. "We were just having a little fun messing with you; I told you that. You know for a fact that I wasn't out with her on Friday night. I was out with a Muggle girl who followed me home. I didn't tell your parents about her and Josephine knew that, so she covered for me. That's all."

Ginny still didn't look convinced.

"Honestly, I'm not dating her or anyone else. Why would I hide something like that from you?"

There was a knock at Harry's door to his outside landing. It opened.

Ron Weasley was standing there, grinning like an idiot and holding a newspaper in his hand. "Glad to see you took my advice about Josephine. I read the article this morning. Who knew that Skeeter woman would ever get anything right when it came to your love life?"

Ginny turned to Harry with a "explain yourself _now_" expression on her face.

"Your brother is an idiot," he said, shooting Ron a glare. "He suggested I see if there were any sparks. There aren't."

"So you kissed her?" Ron asked, eagerly.

"No. I just know. Honestly, we've been friends for a while now and I would know if there was something between us other than friendship."

"Ron may have a point, Harry," Ginny said, not quite so angry anymore now that she realized she wasn't being left out of anything. She realized Harry simply hadn't acknowledged any feelings for Josephine yet; or maybe he couldn't decide between Josephine and Luna?

"You're siding with _him_? I thought you had more sense than that, Ginny."

"You can know someone for a very long time before realizing something is there," Ron said wisely.

"Or, sometimes, something that started out as friendship can become more without you realizing it," Ginny added.

"You're both lunatics," Harry said, taking a step back from them.

Ron and Ginny looked at each other. "Speaking of Luna…" started Ginny.

"Who was speaking of Luna?" asked Harry, seeing a very Weasley-esque glint in her eye. That was the sort of glint he'd seen with Fred and George at their worst.

"You. 'Lunatic' does have the name 'Luna' in it," Ron pointed out.

"Luna _is_ the only one you told about your date," added Ginny.

"You're both off your rockers. I'm glad Josephine and I will be going shopping among the Muggles today. There's no way I could face the wizarding world today after that article." _Damn_, he realized. _I _do _have to go into Hogsmeade to mail those letters. Maybe I can get Jo to mail them_. Harry went back downstairs to find Josephine and tell her they ought to finish eating so they could go out and take care of things.

Ginny and her brother looked at each other. "Who are your odds on?"

"Josephine definitely. She's his new best friend. You?"

"I'm not sure. Luna does seem the one he goes to talk to, but he spends most of his time with Josephine. It looked like they were flirting, but he says that was an act for me."

"Wanna see if Fred and George are up for a real bet? I reckon we've got time to stop in on them before we both have to go to work."

Ginny grinned. "I do believe you're right. Come down to breakfast. Mum'll be glad to see you. Why didn't you bring Hermione?"

"She wanted to finish the last chapter of her novel before going to bed last night, so she still isn't up yet."

"That doesn't sound like her to sleep this late."

"Well, she was only on chapter 2 when she said she wanted to finish the last chapter before going to sleep."

"Just how many chapters were there?" Ginny asked, walking toward the stairs that led back to the rest of the house.

"Sixteen. It took forever for her to finish. I kept trying to distract her, so she threatened to make me sleep on the couch."

Ginny looked at her brother, feeling like gagging. "Come on, let's go before Harry eats the rest of my breakfast."


	17. Puddles of Paint

**Chapter 17—Puddles of Paint****  
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**Disclaimer:** I own only Josephine Clearwater. All else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

**Author's Note:** Hey y'all. I wanted to get this chapter up as soon as possible but I had 26 hours of rehearsal this weekend for _Into the Woods_ and last weekend I was at church camp all weekend in the mountains. The play opens on Saturday, so I'll be up all night (in fall we were at school 'til 1:30 in the morning the day before the show opened) and then I'll get to get up nice and early on Saturday for the SAT, then the show. Fun stuff. And I'm going to have a latex mask spirit gummed to my face because I get to be one of the three little piggies. It'll be awesome though. I can't wait. Anyway, here's the chapter!

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**Harry and Jo were walking down into Ottery St. Catchpole. As had said before, Jo didn't like exercising, so naturally she didn't do it often. By the time they reached the hardware store, her face was flushed with the effort of the walk.

"What color paint are you thinking of?" Jo asked, looking around the store.

"I'm not sure. It's _your_ room. What's your favorite color?"

"Blue," she answered easily.

"How do you want the room to feel? Light and happy? Free? Closed in? What?"

"Free space…" she mused.

"You have an idea?"

"Yeah. A kind of a light blue…and clouds."

"This from the girl who doesn't like to fly?" he teased.

"It's the same sort of freedom as looking at a blank page."

"Alright. So we need blue and white. I've still got brush and trays and paint rollers, so you don't need those." On impulse he grabbed a little can of gold paint and a little can of silver paint while Jo picked out her blue and white. "Do you want to stain your floor too?"

Jo considered. "Maybe. The color on your floor is nice."

"I've probably got enough of that left to do yours with it."

"Great! Then I think we're done for now, aren't we?"

"I think so."

They went to the counter to pay for their paints.

Emily was standing there, looking at them. "I didn't think I'd see you again," she said to Harry. She looked at Josephine with more than mild displeasure. "And who's this?"

"This is Josephine."

"You haven't been here in a few days. I was beginning to wonder what had happened to you," Emily said, pouting a little, keeping her attention on Josephine.

"I finished all the projects in my room. Now I've only just moved onto my next project, Josephine's room."

Emily looked a Josephine, measuring her with a look. She took in Jo's light, blondish-brown hair that reached her waist; her extra pounds; her baggy t-shirt; her lack of makeup; her glasses; and above all else, how near she was standing to Harry. She wondered if this could be the same Jo Harry had talked about on their date. It sounded as though this Josephine lived in his house. Harry had said "room" not "flat" a moment ago. "Just how do you know each other?" she asked suspiciously.

"We go out every week," Jo said casually. Harry had filled her in on the details about Emily and his date with her this morning on the walk into town.

"What exactly does _that_ mean?"

"What do you think it means?" asked Jo.

Emily handed over their change with a sour look on her face. She couldn't believe that this fatty had beaten her! She couldn't believe it. She'd lost out on a cute bloke to Little Miss Piggy.

Harry took their bags in one hand and offered his other arm to Jo.

Jo took his arm gracefully and accompanied him out of the store.

"I think a word of thanks is in order," Jo said in mock smugness.

"Oh, really? Why?"

"Because I think I successfully rid you of your stalker," she said airily.

A slow grin spread on Harry's face. "You're right! As long as she thinks I'm going out with you, she might just stop harassing me."

"Glad to be of service. She's not really a bad sort. She's just an immature, superficial girl, who always gets what she wants."

"So, basically she's everything you hate?" Harry asked.

"Basically," she said, smiling. "But, on the bright side, as thanks for freeing you from her, you and I are going to Apparate to the Burrow. I'm not walking all the way back there uphill."

"Fine. We'll walk to the edge of town and then take the quick way back."

Jo grinned at him. She liked winning.

At the edge of town, they found a secluded place and Disapperated, reappearing in Jo's room. "Let's get this stuff out of here." A lot of her stuff was still rather boxed up and empty boxes lay sideways on the floor. Together they piled everything from the floor into boxes and carried the boxes into Fred and George's old room. The bed, desk, and dresser they levitated out and into the room. The room was now completely bare. Harry went to get the paint things out of his room. When he came back down, Jo had the blue and white cans open and a tarp spread over most of the floor. Harry supposed she must have conjured the tarp.

Harry poured the blue paint into a tray and handed Jo a roller. He picked up another roller. "Let's get started," he said.

Jo looked warily at the wall and stuck out her roller to get started. She did, and splattered both herself and Harry with paint. She looked at him and laughed. Paint dotted his glasses and nose. She snorted.

"You've got as much paint in your hair as I've got on my face," Harry pointed out, laughing.

After that, they really got started. They covered the walls with the light blue paint and then started on the fun part, the clouds. When Jo left for a few minutes to go to the bathroom, Harry took out his gold and silver paint and a little brush and painted a Snitch in one of the upper corners, wondering how long it would take her to notice it. She came back, didn't notice it, and they finished making the clouds. Exhausted, they lay down on the floor, staring at their handiwork.

"That cloud looks like a rabbit," Jo said lazily, pointing at one.

"It does _not_. _I_ painted it. It's a turtle."

"It looks like a _rabbit_."

"It's a _turtle_," he insisted.

"Well, turtles don't have long ears," she retorted.

He looked for something to hit her with and settled with jabbing her in the stomach with a paintbrush (still covered in white cloud paint).

"Do you think it'd be too oppressing if I painted the ceiling black and put constellations on it?" she asked, staring at the ceiling.

"I think that the floor should be the night sky."

"I thought the floor was going to look like yours."

Harry leaned himself up on his elbows to look around better. "The night sky could work on the ceiling."

"Hmm…which moon?"

"Anything but full. How about a new moon?"

"A new moon…that's no moon, though."

"So?" He didn't like the idea of painting a full moon; it made him think of Remus's monthly torture. A new moon was the most time between full moons.

There was a few moments' silence. "I like it. Do we have to go back to that store _today_?" she asked.

"No. I was thinking we'd take the rest of the day off. It's well past lunch and we haven't eaten. I've got an errand to run in Hogsmeade. Do you want to come?"

"I would but I've got to clean up this mess and move my furniture back into the room."

"I'll tell you what," he said, "I'll take care of clean up and getting the furniture back in here if you'll deliver those letters for me."

"Deal. Then how about we eat?" They'd been painting all afternoon and it was hungry work.

"Sounds good. What'd you have in mind?"

"Mrs. Weasley would be more than willing to pack us a picnic, but I don't want to eat outside. Let's go Muggle. It'll be fun. I even have a good place in mind."

"Alright, where do you want to go?"

"Simon and Garfunkle's. It's in London and I haven't eaten there in ages."

"It sounds like a plan then. I think the letters are on my desk or my bed. By the time you send those, I'll have everything back in order here and we can meet at the restaurant."

"We can Apparate near to it. Do you know the area?"

"I think I do." Harry hauled himself to his feet and reached out a hand to help Jo stand up. "I'll see you soon," he said.

She disappeared with a small popping sound.

Harry shook his head. That was sheer laziness if she didn't even want to walk up the stairs to get the letters. He closed the paint cans and put them into their bags, cleaning the paintbrushes and putting them there too. Rather than vanishing the tarp, he folded it up and put it with the paint things; it'd be useful for future painting.

Next, Harry started levitating the furniture back in and setting it up. After that, it was just a matter of bringing in the boxes. It wasn't long before his task was complete. Feeling satisfied, he went to his room and exchanged his project jeans and t-shirt for clean slacks and a blue sweater. He Apparated to a place in London that he knew wasn't far from the restaurant and where he could Apparate unobserved. After that, it was just a short walk to the cheery restaurant where Jo should be waiting for him.

Oddly, she wasn't there when he arrived. He ordered a table and a glass of coke and sat down to wait.

About ten minutes later, Jo (still wearing a smudge of blue paint on her nose) arrived with Neville and Luna in tow. They joined him at the table and Harry signaled for the waiter to bring two more menus.

"Neville, Luna, it's good to see you," Harry said, still surprised at seeing them. He didn't say it, but there was an implied, "What are you doing here?" in his greeting.

After the waiter took their drink orders, Luna replied to his implied question.

"Josephine stopped by on her way to the post-office in Hogsmeade to ask if I wanted to join the two of you. I said I'd be delighted. I wasn't making much headway on my article about pumpkin-bats in Wales," Luna said. "But, I'm still optimistic. One of my sources swears she's seen them flying near her home on Halloween night in years past."

"And Josephine stopped by to see me after she went to the post-office. She said you had something important to tell us," Neville added. "It's good to see you, Harry. We haven't spent time together in a while."

"I know. The more free time I have, the more I try and find things to take up my time," Harry said sheepishly. "How have things been with you?"

"Still doing research. Splicing and dicing plants, trying to come up with plants and potions that'll help people." He'd long since given up the idea of devoting his work solely to helping his parents. There were other people with problems too, worse problems. There were snakes that had poisons in their fangs that kept wounds from closing, plants whose healing properties were almost impossible to get to without first going through their poisons; he loved his work. It was a little dangerous, but exciting. He was doing something to help people and he was proud of himself and he knew his parents and his Gran would be proud too. "Yourself?"

Jo cut in. "Harry has decided to take a few brats under his wing."

Neville looked at him questioningly.

"My new business will be schooling for children too young to go to our school," Harry said, carefully avoiding the words Hogwarts, witches, and wizards.

"I think I saw an ad about that in the _Prophet_," Neville commented, frowning and trying to remember.

"There was. I'm taking the ad out though. I got a huge response. More students than I want to teach."

"There are always new minds to explore," Luna remarked. "What was that announcement you wanted to make?" she asked.

Neville looked at Jo and Harry. "I read the paper this morning. Does it have something to do with that?" He grinned, hoping that he was going to be able to congratulate Harry on finding a girl as wonderful as the one he had found.

"No, honestly, you can't believe a word that woman writes," Jo said, exasperated. "You should know that by now."

"Sorry, I just thought…"

"Are you ready to order?" asked the waiter, returning with their drinks at last.

Harry scanned his menu quickly and picked something off it.

The others ordered and then went back to their conversation.

"If you're not announcing couple-dom then what is the big announcement?" Neville asked curiously.

"I've decided to tell you both where I'm residing."

"That _is_ big news," Neville said, surprised that Harry was going to be so forthcoming about his whereabouts. He was sure Harry would hide them for at least another week or two.

"He's even connected to the Floo Network now," Jo added.

Harry looked at with a glare. How did _she_ know?

Jo grinned sheepishly. "Mrs. Weasley told me."

Harry looked back to his other friends. "My Floo address is Phoenix Wing Place. I'm staying at the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley cleared out the attic for me and I converted it into a small flat of sorts. It's not really done yet, but I've made a lot of progress."

Luna nodded thoughtfully. "Backward, yet forward," she murmured. "I believe you made the right decision."

"Can we see it?" asked Neville.

"I guess we can after lunch. I'd planned on going shopping, but—"

"Don't be such a spoilsport, Harry," Josephine said, rolling her eyes. "Of course he'll let you come see it. There's still some work to be done but it really looks great."

The food arrived and they continued to talk as they ate.

"If you'd like, either of you can come shopping with us. I'm doing some redecorating too. Harry's helping," Jo said, digging in.

"I'm meeting with someone after this," Luna said.

"Really, who?" Harry asked.

"He wrote me a letter saying that you thought he should talk to me," Luna said rotating her hamburger counter-clockwise a quarter of a turn before picking it up and eating it. She took three bites, put it down, and rotated it another quarter turn. "He seems to think he has some sort of problem I can help him with, but he doesn't know what."

"Oh, right. Seamus. I'd forgotten I gave him your address. You don't mind, do you? It seemed like he could really use somebody to talk to right now. He feels like he's the only one from our dorm who isn't doing something great," Harry explained.

"It's fine. He just had a letter he wanted me to give you the next time I saw you. He sent it with the letter he sent me. He said Hannah asked him to give it to you." Luna produced an envelope that she'd folded up into a triangle.

Harry took the letter and opened it. He laughed as he read it aloud. The letter was dated several days ago.

_Dear Harry,_

_I know you said you don't want to be set up, but I know this girl and she's really very nice. I think you'll like her. She's my cousin and her name is Missy. She's a little younger than us, only just out of Hogwarts, but she's very sweet and pretty. I think you'll like her._

_If you want to see her, she's available next Friday. You ought to go out dinner or something._

_Best wishes,_

_Hannah_

"I think you should do it," Jo said.

"What? Why?" Harry asked, as he reached across the table for the ketchup.

"I think it'd be good for you to get out of the house. Other than Emily what's the last date you had?" Josephine accused, only half-serious.

Rather than admit that he couldn't quite think of one off the top of his head, Harry took a long sip at his drink.

"Wait, is Emily that Muggle you went out with?" Neville asked.

"How do you know about her?" Josephine asked. "You weren't at the club yet when Luna mentioned he was on a date."

"Remember, we all stayed and talked after the meeting was over though and I asked Ginny to tell me what everyone said before I go there," Neville said. He turned his attention back to Harry, who wanted to hide under a rock, "Is she?"

"Yes, she is. We had a miserable time, or at least I did," Harry said.

Josephine grinned smugly. "I got her to stop stalking him though, this morning."

"She was stalking you?" Neville asked Harry. He looked at Josephine. "And how did you get her to stop?"

"She wasn't really stalking me, but she followed me back to Ron's house, which is why I had to go on a date with her in the first place," Harry explained.

"I got her to stop stalking him by saying that we were dating," Josephine said, grinning at the rest of the table's occupants.

"Are you really dating?" asked Neville.

"Of course not. I thought we already cleared that up," Jo snorted. "But she didn't have to know that. If she doesn't think he's available, then she should back down for a while and move on to somebody else."

"Good thinking," Neville said.

Luna said serenely, "Lying isn't right, you know, it always comes back to get you in the end."

"What's that supposed to mean? I did Harry a favor. Right, Harry?"

"Right," Harry agreed, whole-heartedly.

Luna refused to say anymore on the topic. She just continued to rotate her lunch in quarter-turns and eat it three bites at a time.

As the meal ended, they decided where they would go from there. Luna regrettably couldn't stay, as she would be meeting with Seamus soon. Neville, however, had done all the work he cared to do for the day and was eager to see what Harry had done to the attic. He'd stayed with the Weasleys in the summer after his Gran died and he remembered going up into the attic once to look for some boxes. Josephine said she had a fabric store she wanted to go to so that she could find a nice fabric to reupholster Harry's chairs with. Harry agreed to meet her there after he showed Neville his new home.

They paid the bill and found safe points, out of sight of the Muggles, to Disapperate from.

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**Author's Note:** Just a quickie here. Jo isn't ugly or anything, but she's not exactly a cover girl. She's more than a few pounds overweight, but most normal people are more than a few pounds overweight today (look at the statistics). It really bugs me when everybody in a story is miraculously skinny and beautiful, so I made Jo ordinary. She has a lovely personality though. She's an everyday person.


	18. Friendly Interrogations

**Chapter 18—Friendly Interrogations**

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**Disclaimer:** I own only Josephine Clearwater and _The Bouncing Ferret_. All else belongs to J. K. Rowling.

**Author's Note:** This is a nice strong chapter I think. It's longish, provides some backstory to what Hermione is doing, and offers a nice little teaser at the end of the chapter. I hope everybody enjoys it. If anybody is waiting for a _**Switched**_update, I promise it's coming. I for the second part, I wrote it two different ways (something I almost never end up doing) I have to decide which to go with so I can write the ending of the chapter.

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Neville looked around Harry's new "flat." He'd done an amazing job with it, truth be told. The floor was shiny and new looking. The walls gleamed white with cheery designs along the top. The curtains were new and a fireplace of his own had been built. The space was a little cramped, but all in all, Harry had done a terrific job. There was really nothing to fault him on.

Neville sat on one the recently acquired chairs.

"I've got some stain to refinish those and then Josephine and I are going to reupholster them. I'm thinking of having them match the curtains, but that might be a little too girlish," Harry said.

"What's going on between you two?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what I say. Is there anything going on between you? You seem pretty close, Harry. You can tell me if there is."

Harry grabbed a lemon soda out of his refrigerator. "There's nothing going on," he said firmly.

"How do you know?"

"I think once you've been friends with someone a certain amount of time you know that there's nothing going on. If there was, you would have figured it out sooner."

"That's not always the case. For example—"

"If you say 'Ron and Hermione' I'm going to have to hex you," Harry warned.

Neville made a zipping motion with his lips. "Alright, alright. Subject closed. What made you move back here of all places. It looks great, but I would have thought you wanted to be on your own."

"I was on my own for a long time. I'm sick of being on my own. I spent virtually all my time before Hogwarts alone and most of the last too years alone. I want to just be part of a family again. Mrs. Weasley was the first family that ever accepted me. She accepted me before she even knew who I was. When she offered me a place here, I couldn't say no. It felt right. It feels like I've finally come home." He smiled, looking around at the walls. _Home_. It had such a nice ring to it.

Neville nodded. "I know how that feels. I don't know it as well as you, and I don't pretend to, but I know what it's like to drift. After Gran passed, I went to my great-Uncle Algie's to stay for a bit, but it didn't feel like it was really home. But when I came and spent the rest of summer here…"

"There's just a sort of motherly warmth about this whole house," Harry said.

"Yeah."

They sat in silence for a moment, two men who knew what it was like to grow up without parents there, day in and day out.

"Mrs. Weasley built me a space so I can land my broom when I fly here," Harry said. "Wanna see?"

Neville grinned. "Lead on."

Harry went to the door and they admired his new little patio. "We were painting, Josephine's room today, if you want to see it."

"Sure." Neville didn't comment on the fact that the conversation had returned to Josephine. He'd get Ron's opinion of the situation later. "I forgot that she was living here."

"Yeah. She moved in a little after I did, but she didn't tell me about it." He proceeded to tell him about how he'd blindfolded her on the way over, as they passed down the stairs to Josephine's room.

Neville admired the walls. "You did this today? They look great. Maybe you should come repaint my place. Are you going to leave the ceiling plain, or paint it with clouds too?"

"We're going to make it the night sky, actually."

"That'll look great." Neville envisioned his walls painted green with vines intertwining around and the occasional exotic flower here and there. It would look superb.

"What are your plans tonight?" Harry asked, out of the blue.

"What?"

"What are you doing tonight? It's been ages since I've gone anywhere with somebody other than Josephine. Why don't you, me, and Ron go to the Bouncing Ferret tonight?"

"It's a Wednesday night. Nobody's going to be there except people who have nothing better to do on a Wednesday night," Neville argued.

"People who have nothing better to do on a Wednesday night _and_ us," Harry countered.

"Sorry, Harry. The truth is, I've sort of got a date tonight."

"Oh." He'd suspected Neville was seeing somebody, but he hadn't known for sure before. "That's fine. Ron and I'll go then."

"Maybe next time."

"Sure," Harry said. Now what was he supposed to do? Ginny told him at breakfast that she had a late practice tonight and wouldn't be home until late. He couldn't go see Luna because she was talking to Seamus and he knew it wasn't wise to interrupt Luna when she was talking to someone (or rather, listening to someone).

"We can still go out now though. Remember, we were going to meet Josephine to look at fabrics for your chairs." Neville felt a little guilty, but he was really looking forward to his date tonight and he didn't want to miss it.

"Right." The fabric store was safe; it was a Muggle place. He just didn't want to go anywhere in the wizarding world with her, not today after that article. Things would be alright if he just gave things a couple of days to die down and let the press forget about him again and shut off their instinctive Potter-radar.

In almost no time they were at the fabric store and picking out something reupholster Harry's chairs with. Neville thought green might look nice, but Jo argued that the chairs should match the curtains. Neville countered that green went with everything.

In the end, Harry chose a blue a little lighter than his curtains. As he went to the register to pay, Jo tailed him. "You know, I was thinking, you ought to separate your living space from your teaching space."

"How do you suppose I do that?" Harry asked. "I don't exactly have a castle at my disposal you know."

"No, but you could get some fold up paneling screens to use to divide your bed and personal space from your table and desk," she offered.

"That's not a bad idea," agreed Neville.

Their next mission, looking for appropriate panel screens, was very successful. They found a variety of colors, but Jo insisted with a wide grin that Harry needed to get the purple ones as they were the color for the Potthar House.

All too soon for Harry's comfort, both of his friends said they had to leave. Neville had to get ready for his date and Jo said she had to get some work done on her next article (she wouldn't say what it was). Jo suggested, "Why don't go see if Ron and Hermione are up to anything? Maybe they'll do something with you."

That in mind, Harry Apparated to the Weasley house and knocked on the door. It seemed forever before Hermione finally opened it.

"Harry, it's good to see you!" She opened her arms and gave him a hug. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for old friends to catch up with. Everyone but me has a busy life it seems," he said, going into the living room and sitting down. "Where's Ron?"

"He's upstairs. He's sick. I told him not to drink whatever was in that bottle that Fred and George brought over," she said, rolling her eyes at her husband's stupidity. "Surely not everyone's busy?"

"Luna is with Seamus, Neville has a date, Ginny told me her practice is going to run really late, and Josephine is working on her next article," he said glumly. "And now Ron's sick."

"Well, I'm not busy. What did you have in mind?"

"I wanted to go to the Bouncing Ferret with Neville and Ron, but it doesn't seem like that'll be happening any time soon."

"I'll go with you. It'll be fun," she said.

"Really?"

"Yes, of course I'll go with you. We hardly spend any time together anymore."

"You're going to just leave Ron here when he's sick?" Harry asked, a little surprised.

"He's a big boy, he can take care of himself. Besides, I won't get into an I-told-you-so rant, but it's his fault anyway. I'll just change out of these sweats and into jeans and a cloak and we can go." She spoke these words over her shoulder as she headed up the stairs.

Harry waited in the living room, turning on the television set that Hermione had gotten Ron for Christmas.

It wasn't long before Hermione came down, dressed in jeans and a tank top, her hair done up in a lose bun. "I'm ready. I talked to Ron and promised we'd take him with us next time and that you two would go out for some boy-time soon. Are you ready?"

"Yeah. I'm glad you're coming with me. I didn't feel like sitting at home like a loser tonight."

"You're not a loser, Harry, you know that. Self-pity is most unbecoming. I'll see you when you arrive," she said with a slight grin. She Disapperated.

Harry followed her with a _pop_.

Soon they were both standing just inside the Bouncing Ferret.

Daphne saw them momentarily and greeted them. "Will you need the upstairs room for you and your friends tonight?" she asked.

"No, just us tonight," Harry said. "We'll stay down here."

"Alright. Anything I can get you?"

"I'll have a Butterbeer."

"Pumpkin juice."

"Ooh, you two are adventurous tonight," Daphne remarked dryly as they followed her to the bar and took seats.

"You know I don't drink, Daphne," Harry said.

"And I'm just not in the mood," Hermione said, settling herself on the barstool.

Daphne got their drinks and went off to see to some of the other customers while Harry and Hermione talked.

"How's work going?" he asked.

"Oh, you know it's not my dream job. Honestly, being the accountant for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes wasn't exactly what I'd planned on when I took my NEWTs."

"Then why are you doing it? You could and can work just about anywhere you want. You know you're brilliant, Hermione."  
"It is paying work, and it gives me time to do what I really want to do."

Harry nodded; he understood. "How's that going anyway?"

"Progressing steadily but slowly. It's hard because people don't want to admit what they really are. They've been shunned for so long that they probably think this is just some trap of the Ministry's."

"How many are in the program now?" Harry asked.

"Three. And that's counting Remus," she said glumly. "It's hard to help people if they don't want to come to you for help."

"It'll get better, Hermione," he promised, squeezing her arm in a friendly way.

"I hope so," she said. For a long time she'd wanted to open a shelter for werewolves. She wanted to open a place where they could live as regular wizards most of the month and safely transform during the full moon. The shelter would provide food and help them find work. She didn't want to call it a shelter though, maybe a _safe house_? When Penelope became Minister of Magic at the beginning of the year she promised to start doing what she could to reverse the werewolf discrimination laws and do something about funding for Hermione's project. So far the results hadn't been extremely successful. She didn't have a building yet to house the people in the program. Remus had been kind enough to take the other two into his home for the time being. His home was small and cramped, but it was better than to have them roaming the countryside. One was a fifty something year old who had lived on the land for years; he'd lost his wand and job when people at his found out what he was. The other werewolf was a boy, only 9 years old, who'd been turned out of his by his parents a few months before when they were terrified by his new condition. Who knew how many others were out there?

"You will, Hermione. You can do anything you set your mind to."

"I couldn't save the house-elves at Hogwarts from their slavery," she said, looking around aimlessly.

"They didn't want to be saved," he said gently.

"Neither do the werewolves," she pointed out.

"They want to, Hermione. They just don't know how yet. They're scared right now. They don't know what's going on with the Ministry reviewing the legislation on them. For all they know, your program might just be a way to round them up, and the Ministry will declare all werewolves put to death or something crazy like that."

"I wouldn't do that," she said, eyes widening in horror.

"I know that, but they don't. They don't know you," said a voice behind them.

"Remus?" Hermione asked, incredulously, turning around. "What are you doing here? This isn't normally your type of scene."

"True. I leave the party scene to the younger generations," he said, wearing a faint smile. He looked around the bar. "But at the moment, I seem to be pretty safe here. The place is mostly empty."

"What are you doing here?" Hermione repeated, eying the books under his arm.

"Dumbledore mentioned that Harry would be getting into teaching soon and I thought he could use these lesson planners of mine." His smile grew.

"Dumbledore? But I hadn't made up my mind when I left his office…" Harry said.

"Apparently, he was fairly sure you had," Remus said, handing the books over. "Mrs. Weasley told me you were here."

Harry cursed. "And how did she know I was here? How did you know to go to her to find me? Only a handful of people know where I live even, Dumbledore _not_ among them."

Remus shrugged. "Dumbledore said talking to Mrs. Weasley would be as good a start as any when it came to finding you. She called Josephine down and Josephine said you'd probably be here with Ron and Hermione."

"Ron's ill this evening," Hermione said. "Drank something that didn't agree with him."

"Tequila?" Remus asked, remembering some of the wilder parties of his youth.

"Worse. He drank something his brothers' gave him. I think they said it would help him grow a beard. Honestly, I'm glad it didn't work. He wouldn't look good with a beard and he'd be too scratchy to kiss," Hermione declared.

Harry and Remus laughed, Remus ran a finger over the mustache he'd recently started to grow. "And me?"

"Your mustache looks very elegant, Remus. Ron is far from elegant," Hermione said primly.

"Thank you. I couldn't help overhearing before…"

"Yes?" she said, biting her lip.

"You put too much pressure on yourself. These things take time. You can't undo centuries of discrimination and fear overnight."

"But I can try," she insisted.

"Yes, you can try. And we're more than willing to help, right, Remus?"

"Of course we are. Just think, Hermione, in a couple of years, maybe, you'll have a nice housing facility for everyone who needs it, a medi-witch or medi-wizard on staff, and maybe even a potion master willing to make enough wolfsbane potions for everyone every month. Dream big, Hermione, but plan realistically," Remus said gently.

"As soon as the latest funding quotes come in from the Ministry you can see where you can get a place and we can start prepping rooms and turning it into the kind of facility you want," Harry said encouragingly.

Hermione smiled weakly, but she knew in her heart that it could be a long time before any money came from the Ministry, even with her tight connections to the Minister of Magic. It would be difficult to get funding to help perhaps the most discriminated against human group in the wizarding world. For Merlin's sake, werewolves were listed in _Magical Creatures and Where to Find Them_. Her cause wasn't hopeless, but it was far from hopeful. Still, she would give it everything she had, and _that_ is why she took the accounting/secretary/any other deskwork the twins didn't want to do job for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. It was relatively easy, despite though the business still seemed to be growing by the day. The important thing was that she had time to do her work on her werewolf welfare project.

"I've got to be going," Remus said. "I told the other two that I'd bring them some dinner back home."

"Thanks, Remus. I'll be by later to check on things," she said, smiling.

Remus said his farewells to Harry and Hermione and Disapperated.

Hermione finished the rest of her pumpkin juice and stood up. "I'm going to the toilet. I'll be right back, Harry."

"And I'll still be here," he replied.

Daphne watched Hermione walked off towards the ladies' room and came back over to Harry. "I'm a little surprised to see you here tonight to be honest."

"Why?"

"After today's paper I figured you wouldn't show your face within a spell's throw of another wizard for a couple of days. Or at least, if you did go somewhere I figured you'd have Josephine Clearwater on your arm," she said, carefully cleaning an empty glass that one of the waitresses brought over.

Harry stared, a little horrified. "I'd finally forgotten about that article."

Daphne laughed.

"I was upset about the article this morning but when I decided to come out tonight I didn't even think about it."

Daphne teetered on the edge of asking the question she wanted to ask and wondering how appropriate it would be; not that such things usually mattered to her, she often said whatever she pleased. Still, Slytherins knew when a little discreteness would come in handy.

Harry sensed the unasked question. "No, the article isn't true."

"So you weren't out yesterday with Josephine and she didn't attack anybody?" Daphne said, eyes sparkling a little. Lisa Turpin had come in yesterday to complain about Zacharias (as usual) and mentioned a certain train incident involving the Minister's sister and Harry Potter. Technically, Lisa wasn't supposed to reveal details about crimes and attacks and such but she and Daphne had been good friends even when they were in different houses in Hogwarts.

"Well, yes she did attack someone when we were out yesterday, but we weren't _out_ we were just out."

"Uh-huh."

"We were."

Daphne wore a small smile but said no more. "My cousin Owled me a few days ago."

"Oh?"

"Yes, she said you paid a little visit to Hogwarts. She was quite smitten with you." Daphne laughed a little; her laugh was like the sound of silverware clattering to the floor.

"I was wondering; what house is she in?" Harry asked. "She seemed like a nice enough girl."

Daphne gave him a look. "Honestly, she's _my_ cousin, what house do you think she's in?"

Harry shrugged.

"She's a Slytherin through and through. A good girl, and a Slytherin through and through."

"Who's a Slytherin through and through?" Hermione asked, reseating herself at the bar and picking up her drink again.

"My cousin," Daphne said.

"I met her when I visited Hogwarts last week," Harry said to Hermione.

"Oh, I see."

"So, what brings you two out here this time of the week?" Daphne asked.

"Just felt like getting out of the house is all," Harry said vaguely.

"And I thought I'd join him," Hermione added. "How's business been?"

"Oh, it's been good. It's always better on the weekend. This isn't like the Leakey Cauldron; that's the gate into Diagon Alley pretty much. Anyone who doesn't Apparate or Floo straight to Diagon Alley has to come through the Leakey Cauldron. The Bouncing Ferret is still in London, but we're not right nearby. But that's all right; we want a different crowd from the Cauldron. The Ferret's crowd tends to largely be people who've left Hogwarts in the last five years or so."

"The name really was a great choice," said Hermione.

Daphne laughed. "Oh, I think even Draco's closest friends probably will always relish the image of Moody transfiguring him that day. Draco suddenly squirming and squealing and twitching…it was really one of those priceless moments."

Harry finished his Butterbeer, nodding in agreement. They sat in silence for a minute.

Hermione looked at him. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah, I suppose so." He started to stand, but then a customer entering caught his eye. "Look over there."

"Isn't that…?"

"Yeah, that's Ernie Macmillan. What's he doing here? Ginny said that practice was supposed to run late tonight."

"Maybe the Captain decided to let them all end early?" Hermione offered.

"Somehow, I don't think so. Would you wait here for a minute?"

"Sure," she said, settling back down.

Harry walked over to Ernie casually. "Hey, Ernie."

"Harry."

"How's life treating you?"

"Not bad. Just came in for a drink."

"How was practice?"

"Not too bad. The Captain decided to be generous and give us a short practice today. He told us yesterday that he would." Ernie was a reserve Chaser for the Cannons.

"How long ago did your practice end?"

"Almost an hour. Why?"

"Oh, nothing. Do you know if Ginny was staying for extra practice or something?" Harry asked.

"No, she left when the rest of us did. What's this about?"

"Thanks, Ernie. Say hello to the guys for me at the next practice, alright?"

"Sure thing." As Harry turned to go back to Hermione, Ernie called Daphne over to order his drink.

"Anything?" Hermione asked.

"Wherever Ginny is, she isn't at the Quidditch field."

"Let's leave. Maybe she's at the Burrow."

"I wouldn't mention this to Ron until we find out what's going on," Harry cautioned.

"I know that, do you think I'm as dense as he is or something?" she teased.

Harry laughed and they Disapperated to their respective homes, neither seeing the spunky redhead who entered just after they left.


	19. Making Progress

**Chapter 19—Making Progress**

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**Disclaimer:** I own only Josephine Clearwater and the Bouncing Ferret. All else belongs to J. K. Rowling.

**Author's Note:** Originally this chapter was named "Errands" and then I was looking and saw that there was already a chapter named "Errands to Run" so I changed it. However, I still like the original title better. I'm sorry I haven't updated in so long. Life's been pretty hectic, but should calm down for at least a little bit. I probably have other stuff to say, but it's one in the morning and I don't remember it.

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Harry woke up and started working on his _Quibbler_ article before going down to breakfast. By the time he went down, he was pleased with the start he'd made.

_Readers,_

_It appears that the elusive Severus Snape has migrated south, leaving his ice covered home in exchange for a warmer climate. Our sources say he is currently riding a hippogriff bound for Bermuda, though at the moment he is making his way through Russia disguised as famed Bulgarian Quidditch player, Viktor Krum. Beware; this man is an imposter. If you see someone that you think may be Viktor Krum, report him to the authorities, as he is probably really Severus Snape. In all likelihood the man is mentally unstable and highly dangerous._

Satisfied, he went to breakfast.

"Did you have a nice sleep, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, putting spoonfuls of eggs onto a plate for Harry.

"Yes, it was fine, Mrs. Weasley. I really like my room."

"I'm so glad."

Breakfast chatter continued for a few minutes until Mr. Weasley put down his paper, got up to kiss his wife goodbye on the cheek, and Disapperated for work.

Harry picked up the discarded newspaper. "What's my ad still doing here? I asked Seamus to take it out."

Jo shrugged. "Maybe they didn't have anything else to put there in its place. What? Would you rather have them dig up an old photo of you and use that to fill the space?" Jo retorted. She took the paper from him and started flipping through it rapidly.

"No, I just figured they'd find something to put there. Other than the fact that it's before noon, why are you so testy?"

"I want to see if my article got in," she said, not taking her eyes off the page she was scanning.

"The article you were working on yesterday?" Harry asked. "That's fast writing."

"Yes. That's the one. It's a demand for a retraction by _Witch Weekly_, a threat against slander, and an all out war against the make-up wearing, starving themselves to look good, buy the latest fashion trend, following the pop stars and athletes culture we live in." She flipped pages, not finding her article.

"Gee, I wonder why it didn't get in," Ginny said sarcastically.

"What time did you come home, Ginny?" Harry asked. "It was after me."

"Late. I had a drink after practice ended. I ended up talking for a while and it was after midnight when I got home." This was all true information. "Where were you?"

"A few of us went out to eat, and then Hermione and I went to the Bouncing Ferret.

"In the middle of the week?" she asked, disbelieving.

"We just felt like getting out for a while. The dynamic duo poisoned Ron."

"Poison?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Ron wanted to see how fast he could grow a beard and the potion his loving brother's gave him just didn't agree with him," Harry clarified.

"I'm sure Hermione would have told him not to drink it," Mrs. Weasley said. "He wouldn't look good in a beard. Weasley men just don't. Arthur tried growing one years ago, after Charlie was born. Hermione _must_ have told him not to drink it."

"She did," Harry confirmed.

"Which is probably why he drank it," added Ginny.

"Enough about their foolishness," proclaimed Mrs. Weasley. "What are everyone's plans for today?" She was glad to at least have three chicks still in the nest.

"I've got to work. Training is still everyday and tough. We've a match coming up against the Harpies."

Mrs. Weasley turned her attentions expectantly towards Harry and Josephine. Harry silently volunteered to go first.

"I've got a bunch of errands to run today. The _Daily Prophet_, getting texts for my students, figuring out time schedules, and who knows what else."

"And you, dear?"

Josephine finished off a piece of toast before answering. "I'm off to find a story. Somewhere out there is a story just waiting to be written," she said determinedly.

Harry asked politely, "What about you, Mrs. Weasley?"

"I was going to talk to Charlie about his wedding plans. Maybe I'll go visit Ronnie instead."

"That sounds like a great idea, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said. He wondered if Ron would be home. The stuff the twins gave him couldn't have been _that_ bad.

Harry and Josephine helped clear off the table. "Harry, would you come with me? I want to ask about something on my wall."

"Sure," Harry said. She must have seen the Snitch when she got up. He followed her up the stairs, grinning smugly.

"First off, I did see the Snitch on the wall. What's it for?"

"To remind you," he said simply.

"To remind me of what? Of you?" she asked, raising one eyebrow. "I assure you, you're not that easy to forget."

"No. To remind you to always keep your goals in sight."

She smiled. "That's sweet. _But_ the real reason I asked you up here is because I got a letter from my sister last night. First of all, she's really not happy about that article that Rita Skeeter wrote about us. I think she was pissed off that Skeeter dragged her name into the article with mine. Second, she and my ever so charming brother-in-law are inviting us to a dinner party Friday. She said we could come as a couple or bring dates, but she made it fairly clear that not coming was not an option and that we need to let her know how many of us there are going to be."

Harry groaned. A dinner party at Percy and Penelope's sounded like the last thing anybody in their right mind would want to do on a Friday night as far as he was concerned. "Did you write back to her yet?" Harry asked, sitting down on the bed.

"No." Josephine crossed her arms and gave a semi-resigned sigh of annoyance. "I don't want to go. I can't imagine that you'd want to either; it'll be really dull. But after all the bad publicity with Skeeter's article, I ought to make it up to her, so I _am_ going. I was thinking…"

"You were thinking? That can't be good."

She ignored him. "Hannah's cousin. You should take her. A friendly date. It'll be good for you to go out with a nice witch like her."

Harry groaned again, letting himself plop on the bed. "I don't like dating. I _especially_ don't like _blind_ dates. It's a recipe for disaster."

"It can't be that bad," she protested.

"Sure it can. Haven't you ever had a bad date?"

"Yeah. Plenty."

"Well, let's put it this way, I've almost never had a _good_ date. My first relationship: Cho, the human water works. After that, things seemed to go downhill from there for the most part," Harry said grimly.

"It'll be fun."

"No, it won't. You don't even want to go. I'll go to the party. I'm not bringing a date," Harry said stubbornly.

Jo looked at him. She was standing between the bed and desk with plenty of objects in arm's reach in case she felt like throwing something. "Harry, if you _don't_ bring a date, then it'll look like the article was right and _we're_ dating. A lot of boring officials are going to be there. One of us has to bring a date."

Harry frowned. That was true. "Why does it have to be me? You ought to go find a date for the dinner."

"Why should I? You've already got one ready and waiting. I don't. I really don't have any prospects I can think of to ask if I was going to bring one."

He didn't want it to look as though the Skeeter's article was true. He stood up and gave a resigned sigh. "Alright. I'll talk to Hannah about Missy when I'm at the _Daily Prophet_ office today. But you ought to try for one too."

"Great," Jo said cheerfully, ignoring the suggestion that she scrounge up a guy to go with. She continued just as cheerfully, "Now get the heck out of my room so I can get dressed." She shooed him out and slammed the door.

Harry was already dressed, so there was nothing left for him to do but Apparate to the office of the _Daily Prophet_. He went upstairs to get the collection of letters for students he'd accepted and rejected, and Disapperated.

Once inside the office, he found himself in front of Hannah. She looked up at him and smiled. "Harry, did you get my letter?" she asked brightly.

Harry looked around awkwardly. "Yeah, I'm going to a dinner party that Ron's brother and his wife are throwing. I was wondering if Missy would come there with me on Friday. Not as a date, as friends. Just a friendly dinner. I told you I'm not looking for a girlfriend."

"We'll see. Things come when you least expect them," Hannah said. "But I'll let her know. This Friday?"

"Yeah," he said, nodding a bit awkwardly. "I know it is short notice, but I just found out this morning that the invitation came yesterday."

"She'll be really pleased, Harry. She had a crush on you back at Hogwarts. She's a year younger than us."

"Oh, really?" His voice gave no indication as to which part of the sentence he was commenting on.

"Yes. In fact I'll write her now." Hannah searched for writing materials at her desk.

"I'll leave you to that. I've got to see Seamus."

Hannah didn't look up from her letter. "Alright. You know where his office is."

Harry left her to her work and started off for Seamus's office. He knocked on the door.

"Knock once if you're an enemy; twice if you're a friend; and three times if you haven't discovered the meaning of life yet!" a voice called.

Harry thought about it a minute. Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Enter, brother!" Seamus called, after hearing the third knock.

"You seem happier. Or maybe just drunk?" Harry said, settling himself into a chair.

"I am," Seamus said, almost grinning. "Happy, not drunk. She didn't change my whole worldview with one night of talking, but she gave me some food for thought, that's for sure."

"She tends to do that a lot," Harry said, smiling. He had hoped Seamus's talk with Luna had gone well. "Do you know what you want now? What you want to do?"

"Nope, not a clue. But I feel a heck of a lot better about it now. We stayed up talking half the night. I'm okay with it. I don't have to know just yet. I still have time to change my mind as many times as I want," Seamus said. "What can I do for you today?"

"I told you that I wanted my ad taken out of the paper."

Seamus shrugged. "You booked it for the month and didn't give us anything to put there instead. We can't have blank space."

"I'll bring you a Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes ad and you can put that in. Fred and George are always looking for free advertising."

"That sounds fine. What else?"

"Did I get anymore mail?"

"Yeah. Loads of it. Let me find it." He rummaged around on the desktop for a moment. "Okay, you sent out, what, fifteen letters?" He waited for Harry to nod before continuing. "These twelve look like replies probably. These ten came this morning." Seamus handed over the letters.

"Keep those ten and send them back. I don't need any more students."

"You don't want to read them for curiosity's sake?" Seamus asked.

"Nope. Curiosity killed the Kneazle."

Seamus handed over the first set of letters. He held the other set in his left hand, waving them side-to-side a little.

"Oh, alright. Give me those," Harry said exasperatedly.

Seamus handed them over. "I was reading the newspaper yesterday…"

"Not you too!"

Seamus grinned. "We work at the _Prophet_. How could we not? Hannah and I had a lengthy discussion about it when we read it, actually. There's even an office pool going. The smart money reckons it's true. You wanna tip me off before I place my bet?"

Harry felt his face get a little hot. "Yeah. I'll give you the definitive answer: no. No. Josephine and I aren't together; plain and simple. You can ask Hannah. I'm taking her cousin to a dinner party on Friday."

"Is _Josephine_ going to be there?"

"Yes," Harry told him. He was clearly ready to leave. This conversation was not going in any direction that he was going to like.

"If you're going with Hannah's cousin, who's Josephine going with?"

"_Not _me." Harry tried not to let it show on his face, but now that the question was out there, he wondered, who _was_ Josephine going with? "I'll bring back that Weasley ad later."

"Take your time. I've got paperwork to do," Seamus said, trying not to laugh. He wondered what was _really_ going on with this Josephine person Harry kept talking about. Seamus himself didn't know much more about her than Rita's article had said.

Harry took the letters and got up, feeling decidedly embarrassed. He wished everyone would just leave him alone for a while. Maybe he ought to cancel on Missy now before Hannah could send the letter, and tell Jo that he'd play sick the night of the dinner party. Penelope and Percy would understand. They'd have to understand. He left the office.

He went back to the lobby. "Hey, Hannah? Did you send that letter yet?" asked Harry.

"I just mailed it off," she said happily.

"Any chance of getting that owl back? I don't think I'm going to that dinner party after all." He wondered where she'd had an owl that she could have mailed the letter so quickly. Then again, this was a newspaper office; there was probably no lack of owls if you knew where to look.

"She's really very nice, Harry. And pretty. At least give her a chance."

"It's not her, Hannah. I'm sure she _is_ very nice and pretty. It's me. I really don't want to go out. The time is just bad, and the dinner party'll be dull…" His excuses sounded weak and he knew it. His excuses were about as weak as when he was talking to Daphne about Jo.

"Really, Harry! You're using the old it's-not-you-it's-me speech before you've even gone out with her? That's not fair. At least give her a chance."

_Stuck between a rock and a hard place_, he thought glumly. "It's true. I don't want to date. I don't want to go out. And I don't want to go to that dinner party with her or anybody else. I don't want to go to the dinner party period. I was going to go for a friend so that I could keep her company," he started to explain.

Hannah looked hurt. "If you don't want to go with her, tell her yourself. You can write to her. I'll even address an envelope for you." She hastily addressed an envelope in her tidy printing and handed it to him. "Here."

Harry shoved the envelope in his pocket and Disapperated. He appeared in front of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes in Diagon Alley. It was a quick matter to get a flyer from the Weasley twins and get their permission to put it in the paper.

"We can always use more advertising."

"Especially if it's free."

"Speaking of free advertising…Harry, would you mind wearing one of our new promotional t-shirts around Diagon Alley?"

"We'd wear them ourselves, but they're orange. They clash with our hair," Fred told him.

"And our dragon-hide jackets," added George.

"No thanks. Why don't you try and get Ron to wear one? Not that anybody'll see him," Harry said, snorting.

Fred and George snickered. "That potion will do exactly what we said it would do."

"He said he wanted a beard. So he'll have one just like Dumbledore's."

"Only, it'll look like Dumbledore's when it was still red."

George turned to his twin. "Au contraire, brother, there's much debate on that. His hair and beard were both said to have been more auburn or ginger. Ickle-Ronniekins's hair is most assuredly _orange_."

"Right you are. I must be going color-blind in my old age," Fred said, smacking himself in the forehead with the heel of his hand.

"And forgetful," George reminded him. "After all, you didn't remember to tell Ronniekins that that beard-growing potion was going to give him a two-day stomachache while the hair grew."

"Me and my old age. Whatever will I do with myself?" tutted Fred.

"I think we'll have to commit Fred to St. Mungo's, only thing to do with symptoms like that," Harry told George, his face a calm mask of seriousness.

Fred grinned wickedly. "Speaking of St. Mungo's…we saw that article." He neglected to mention that that article could win him a bet, _if_ it was true.

"Oh. That," Harry said darkly.

"Yes. 'That.' What's going on?" asked George.

"Nothing," Harry said firmly.

"So absolutely _nothing_ that that newspaper said about you was true?" Fred asked.

"She may have had a couple of facts right…but she read everything wrong. It wasn't like that. We were furniture shopping."

"Furniture shopping?" George asked skeptically.

"Yes. Furniture shopping for my new place."

Fred asked casually, "Did you know that Josephine lives at the Burrow now?"

"Yes, I know that. Kind of hard not to. So do I," Harry said, talking as if he were speaking to a five year old. He gave Fred and George a minute to digest this information.

"Living together so soon, Harry?"

"We didn't think you were like that."

"We thought you had higher moral stands."

They waved their index fingers and tutted at him.

Harry smacked them both on the back of the head. "I do, thank you very much. I told you it's not like that."

"Weak, Harry, very weak," observed George.

"What's weak?" Harry demanded.

"Your excuses," explained Fred. "Very weak. Nothing going on. Furniture shopping. It's all very weak."

"If you two will excuse me, I've got stuff to do," Harry told them.

"Stuff?"

"Yeah, errands to run. I've got to bring this back to the office of the _Prophet_, pick up textbooks for my students, and talk to somebody," Harry said impatiently.

"Talk to who?"

"Josephine?"

"For your information, I'm going over to save Ron from your mum," Harry said.

"Ah, noble, Harry, very noble."

"We wish you luck, young Harry. If we don't meet again, we'll remember you always. As a noble—"

"Brave—"

"Wizard who is dating Josephine Clearwater," Fred and George finished together. The redheads laughed and Harry Disapperated. Fred and George were glad that Harry had showed up and amused them; it helped take their minds off the fact that Hermione had left moments before Harry arrived and not only given the pair of them a severe scolding, but the frizzy haired brunette had also bestowed a painful boil hex that would prohibit them from sitting down comfortably for at least a week.

Harry went immediately to the _Daily Prophet_ office and turned in the flyer to Seamus. "Hannah came in here after you left. She looked kind of upset."

"I was thinking about breaking my date with her cousin," Harry admitted.

"No wonder she looked upset. I know her cousin. Do you remember what Colin Creevy and Ron's sister were like in our second year?"

"Yeah. Ginny sent me a singing dwarf and Colin kept taking my picture." He sat down in the chair, deciding maybe he'd stick around for a while after all.

"Same thing. She was obsessed with you when she was younger. I don't really know how she is now, but adding professional Quidditch onto your resume probably helps."

"I should definitely Owl and cancel."

"Are you sure? I said she was like that when she was younger. She might not be like that now, you know. Ginny's grew out of it, didn't she?"

"Yeah, Ginny did. But I'm not going. It's as simple as that. I've got her address. I just have to have write and say I changed my mind about the dinner party," Harry said, slouching back in his chair.

"What are you going to tell her?" Seamus asked.

Harry shrugged. "I'll think of something."

"Are you going to Owl her at the last minute and say you're sick, or are you going to Owl her now and say you're not going?"

"I was going to just Owl her now. She might have her feelings hurt less if I Owl her Thursday and say I'm too sick to go on Friday," Harry mused.

"Are you going to go without her on Friday?" Seamus asked.

"Gee, what's with the third degree? I don't know. I don't _want_ to go."

"Then don't."

"Josephine'll probably want the moral support. I don't see how she can get out of it. It's her sister and she owes her for making a scene like that."

"Then go."

"But I don't want to."

"Make up your mind, mate. If you want to go, go. If you don't, don't."

"I don't want to. So I won't," Harry said firmly.

Seamus reached over and clapped him on the back. "That's the spirit. Get outta here. The boss sent in some paperwork just after you left before. I've got a lot of work to do or I'll get sacked." He paused for a moment. "On second thought, getting fired wouldn't be so bad. It'd be a good excuse to get out of here. Maybe I ought to set fire to this whole stack." He gestured to the stack of parchment on his desk. He picked up his wand and rolled it around his hand for a moment, staring at it.

"I'll leave you to it, Seamus. Make the right choice," Harry said, standing up to show himself out.

"The same to you, Harry."

Harry left, going back to the attic of the Burrow to sort through and make a list of what materials he'd need to pick up for his students. He went through the letters and wrote out a list with the students' names, ages, and the subjects their parents wanted them to take.

**Bierce, Eudora**—age 5—English, Math, Geography

**Eelop, Stephen**—age 5—English, Math, Muggle Studies, Geography

**Fortescue, Frederick**—age 6—English, Math, Muggle Studies, Geography

**Irving, Mark**—age 5—English, Math, Muggle Studies, Geography

**Jordan, Zora**—age 5—English, Math

**Lowell, Diana**—age 10—Math, Muggle Studies

Macmillan, Paul—age 7—Math

**McGonagall, Abigail**—age 7—English, Math, Muggle Studies

**Meadowes, Elise**—age 6—English, Math

**Nott, Mary**—age 9—Math, Muggle Studies, Geography

**Perks, John**—age 8—English, Math, Geography

**Pucey, Victor**—age 5—English, Math

**Sadlier, Walt**—age 6—English, Math

**Stebbins, Tom**—age 8—English

**Wadsworth, Robert**—age 6—English, Math, Muggle Studies, Geography

List in hand, Harry left. He'd still have to draw up a teaching schedule, but at least now he had a better idea of what he needed. Reading books, grammar books, math books, maps…

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Author's Note:** I know about 2/3 of Harry's students come from families we've never even heard of, but to put the ages right, none of the kids Harry is teaching are going to have gone to Hogwarts with him. So the names would be different because it'd be different families. I didn't want to pull random relatives out of everything. Tom Stebbins is an invented younger sibling to someone who does exist and whose year and house I don't remember and will look up later on. Elise Meadowes is (probably) distantly related to the deceased Dorcas. Victor Pucey is a cousin, or possibly much younger brother of older Slytherin student Adrian Pucey. Abigail McGonagall is Minerva's great-neice. Mary Nott is the younger sister of Theodore Nott. John Perks is Sally-Anne's sister, I have to look up her house and year again but I think she's a Hufflepuff. Zora Jordan is probably younger sister to Lee, but maybe not. Paul related to Ernie, Stephen Eelop is related to the guy who owns Eelop's Owl Emporium, Frederick is related to the guy who owns the ice cream parlor in Diagon Alley. The rest of the names I took from my English book and switch around. The author's whose names I took have no relevance on the character's personalities. I know it sounds like a lot of OCs, but I think it's more in-character to do this than have Sirius come up with a long lost daughter or something like that. The kids in Harry's year are all only 20 or 21 now, so they don't have kids yet, so I was forced to create these OCs. Please forgive me.


	20. A Mother

**Chapter 20—A Mother**

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**Disclaimer:** I own a few things in this chapter. However, I don't own Harry Potter or anything that appears in J. K. Rowling's books. You know the drill, not mine so don't sue me.  
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Harry wandered through a bookstore in Muggle London, trying to figure out what he'd need, based on the ages of the children. He'd need to teach reading, writing, math (sans calculators), geography, and Muggle Studies. Maybe he could pick up textbooks later. How about supplies first instead? He strolled out of the bookshop as quickly as he'd come in.

Standing out on the street corner, he was faced with his first big decision as a teacher. Pens, pencils, or quills? It baffled him for a moment. Sure he could write fine with quills now, but it had definitely been an adjustment switching over when he first came to Hogwarts. But he _did_ learn how to use quills. But, he reasoned, he was eleven at the time and already knew how to write. How difficult was it going to be for little five year olds, still working on developing their small motor skills? That being the case, pens and pencils looked like the best option. Still, they'd have to learn quills eventually…

He made a decision and looked for an office supply store or stationary store of some sort. He saw a stationary store not far away, but decided that for a class of fifteen (even if they weren't _all_ taking the same subjects) he'd be best off buying a little more in bulk. He caught a cab to another part of city, further toward the outer reaches. He stopped the cab in front of an office supply store, paid the driver, and got out, glad to stretch his legs. It was by no means high traffic time, but the traffic in the city was never exactly good and he had gotten unused to cars after largely not riding in them since he was eleven.

He went inside to see what sort of selection he had to choose from. It turned out that the store the driver had advised him to pick was certainly a good one. It offered a fairly wide variety of office supplies, covering everything from post-its to computers. He navigated himself by the signs hanging from the ceiling above each aisle and soon found the aisle he wanted.

He grabbed a couple of packs of blue pens, a box of #2 pencils, a small hand-operated pencil sharpener, and very nice looking red pen. He saw several boxes of crayons as he was leaving the aisle and grabbed a box on whim.

Harry moseyed on down toward the next aisle and saw notebooks and sheet paper. He hesitated again. He seemed to be doing that a lot today. Parchment or notebook paper? Decisions, decisions. He consulted his list of students. Seven of them would be taking Muggle Studies. He picked up seven notebooks. He figured everyone should be able to write on the parchment easily enough, but it might be fun to have notebooks around for his Muggle Studies students. Maybe he could come up with some sort of project for them.

Harry went on through the store, picking up anything that looked like he might need it. After making his purchases, he took stock of what he had: lesson planners from Remus (waiting for him at home), things to write with, things to write on, a couple of coloring books, crayons, a pencil sharpener, lots of folders, and nametags. He glanced at the sun, realizing it must be almost noon. Maybe he'd go save Ron from his mum.

Looking around to make sure nobody would notice someone vanishing into thin air, Harry Disapperated, reappearing outside Ron and Hermione's house. He rang the bell.

Surely enough, Mrs. Molly Weasley answered it.

"Harry, what a pleasant surprise!" she beamed at him.

"May I come in, Mrs. Weasley?"

"Of course, dear. I just finished making Ronald some lunch. Would you like me to fix you something too?" She ushered him inside.

"Actually, I'd like to go say hello to Ron if you don't mind. And then I thought maybe I'd take you out to lunch." Harry offered her a charming smile as he entered the living room.

"That sounds lovely, Harry, thank you. I found a few of Ron's socks are already in need of darning. It's a wonder Hermione hasn't mended them yet. I'll sit here and work on them while you twovisit." She settled herself into a chair and pulled a bag of socks, thread, and a needle out for her to get to work with.

"I won't be too long, Mrs. Weasley," he promised.

"Enjoy yourself and take your time, dear," she said, settling into the rhythm of her stitching.

Harry went to Ron's room, marveling a little bit. Mrs. Weasley treated him always like her own son (which had lots of wonderful qualities and a few annoying ones). For example, he wouldn't be a bit surprised to see her mending his socks if she happened to wash them and see they were in need of mending. But he had never called her Mum, or Mother, or anything of the sort—except the time he made the excuse to Emily, but Mrs. Weasley hadn't noticed. Neither had she later asked who the girl was. The lack of curiosity about such a subject was unusual for her, but maybe she just hadn't really noticed.

Mrs. Weasley was and had always been motherly to him. Always comforting. No one had ever really been more caring to him in that sort of way. He was fairly sure no one else ever would be. Once, the summer after sixth year, Harry had been staying at the Burrow for a time while Dumbledore considered the next best place for him. They had decided that #12 was no longer safe (the dark side had their suspicions, even though the information offered by Kreacher had been limited thanks to Dumbledore being the Secret-Keeper). Harry had crept down the stairs as noiselessly as possible and settled himself in front of the dying fire in the kitchen. He sat on the floor, leaning back against the table leg. He hadn't been there long when Mrs. Weasley showed up.

_She came into the kitchen with a handmade quilt over one arm. She touched him lightly on the shoulder, getting on her knees on the cold floor. "Harry?"_

_Harry's eyes were closed and he opened them at the sound of the familiar voice. "Mrs. Weasley. Did I disturb you? I'm sorry. I thought I was quiet…I just couldn't sleep."_

_"I didn't hear anything. I just knew that one of my boys was up and out of bed. Mothers know these things." Her demeanor changed slightly, still comforting, but with a little more concern and insistence. "You must be chilled." She draped the quilt around his shoulders, pulling it around him. She reached across next to the hearth and added another log to the fire. "You need milk and cookies," she said firmly._

_"Really, Mrs. Weasley. I'm fine. You don't need to do anything for me."_

_"Nonsense, Harry. I have raised five boys who've grown into independent adults. They haven't always been easy to deal with. They still aren't." Harry knew she was thinking particularly of Percy, and probably the twins. "But I still know what's best for them. A boy is never too old, tall, freckled, faraway, or smart to listen to his mother. Now, I am still in the process of raising Ronald, you, Ginny, and Hermione. I know what's best and right now you need milk and cookies. I made a fresh batch of chocolate chip and walnut cookies this morning. A few cookies and a bit of milk and you'll be alright." Smiling knowingly, she bustled about the kitchen. She knew where the plates she wanted were, she knew how to open the cookie jar without the lid squeaking (something the twins never managed), and she poured just the right amount of milk into a cup that wasn't too awkward to drink out of, but was also the perfect size to dip cookies in. She set the plate and glass out before him, and another glass before herself._

_Harry took a cookie gratefully and bit into it._

_Mrs. Weasley sat there with him and it was a comfort. She didn't ask the question she wanted to; she just sat there with him and kept away the spirits and haunts that Harry knew wanted to leap out of his subconscious and claim him._

_Finally, three and half cookies and a glass of milk later, Harry spoke. He stared at her and, like a child, held her hand and gave it a squeeze, just to reaffirm that she was there, and real, and alive. "Nightmares. They've gotten worse. No visions, but awful nightmares." He shuddered and his voice choked up on him. "It's worse than my parents…worse than Sirius…worse than Cedric. Mrs. Weasley, those people are all dead and I can't do anything about it now, I _know_ that now. But these new nightmares…people_ I know_ die. People that are living and breathing right now are dying and I can't do anything to save them. When I see my parents die, and I wake up, I've learned to handle it. I can't do anything about _them_. But when it's Ron. Or Hermione. Or Ginny, or Mr. Weasley, or _you_ or Neville or someone that's still alive, that can still feel pain, someone that _I _care about…" Harry bit his lip, willing himself not to cry. He'd learned that usually, if he tried hard enough, he could keep from crying. It hurt on the inside, but he didn't have to let it show._  
_Mrs. Weasley could sense the tears trying to come and knew he was forcing them not to. She put her arms around him and hugged him close. "Oh, honey, Harry, it's okay to cry. It's okay to cry when you're hurt."_

_And Harry let himself cry. And cry he did. He didn't know how long he cried, it had been so long since he'd let himself do such a thing, but when he was done Mrs. Weasley's shoulder was wet with his tears. "I'm sorry," he sniffled, wishing he sounded more grown up. He'd watched vividly in his head as Voldemort and unmasked Death Eaters killed each one of Mrs. Weasley's children, and then Hermione, and then Mr. Weasley, while she stood nearby, hexed, unable to do anything but watch and cry. And then they killed her. All the while, he had watched this in his nightmare, unable to look away._

_"Harry, don't be sorry. You have nothing here to be sorry about."_

_"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. I probably ought to go to sleep." He stood. The combination of the crying and milk had made him drowsy enough that he might just be able to sleep for a few more hours. The quilt was almost cape-like around him, and gave him an added measure of security. It smelled of Mrs. Weasley and no doubt had been stitched by her hands._  
_Mrs. Weasley stood up and kissed Harry on the forehead. "Harry, I know I'm not your mother by blood. But you're my son by love. You may not feel comfortable calling me anything other than 'Mrs. Weasley,' and that's all right. But I love you like a son. When you need a mother, I'll be here, arms open. I've got a good shoulder to cry on. I can chase monsters out from under the bed, and I never mind extra children around or calling me 'Mum.'" She hugged him. "I love you, Harry."_

_Harry couldn't say it out loud. He could remember anyone saying those four words to him. I love you, Harry. When had he heard that? Maybe in some long lost dream of infancy. Silently, he said _I love you too._ And with that, Harry got up and went back to bed, blanket still around him, and slept a little more soundly thanks to Mum Weasley._

But what about a father? Don't boys need fathers?

First there was Dumbledore. He seemed kind, wise, and a little mischievous. There was his surface power, the sense that he knew everything and everything would be okay. The sense that he was in control. But then you past that if you _really_ knew him, and you learned the power he had a fighter, as a planner, as a spell caster. It was power that would make even the most feared evil wizard fear his name. And then you realize that underneath the layers of power and age, of wrinkles and a long beard, Dumbledore really is a human. He's not always right. Harry had known him for almost a decade now. He went from hero, to mentor, to almost grandfather, to friend, to backstabber, to who knows what the relationship could be called any longer. Harry couldn't exactly say it was father-son. Grandfather didn't exactly seem fitting either. Maybe Dumbledore was the eccentric great-uncle? Yes, that seemed appropriate for the old man. Mentor, teacher, friend, eccentric family member. _That_ was Albus Dumbledore as Harry Potter knew him.

Then there was Sirius. The thought of him still hurt sometimes. For about a year and a half after they'd met, he'd seemed like he might just be the father, no the _dad_, he'd always wanted. Mr. Weasley was kind, but he was almost maybe, a kind uncle? The sort of kind and friendly uncle that Vernon Dursley could never have been, even if he had tried. Ah, but Sirius. He'd seemed like the ideal dad at first. Fun, caring, and he'd been best friend to James Potter. What more could Harry want as the next best thing if he could have his real father? Well, Sirius and he spent a lot of time cooped up together during the summer and Christmas of 1995 and were both disillusioned. Sirius looked at Harry and had stopped seeing Harry as _Harry_; he looked at him and saw James Potter, his best friend, back from the dead. But Harry _wasn't _James, couldn't _be_ James, and didn't _want_ to be James. Harry's idea of Sirius as a father figure morphed until he was more of a father/brother figure. He proved to be a rather sulky brother once he realized that his James-replacement wasn't as much fun as the original. Harry missed Sirius and wondered sometimes, when his mind wandered on of its own accord, what it would have been like if Sirius had lived. Sometimes though, it seemed that Sirius's 12 years in Azkaban had had more of an effect on him than he'd realized before. Once about 8 months ago, when his insomnia-fueled mind refused to leave him alone one night, Harry had Flooed to Remus around three a.m. to discuss Sirius and how he'd changed since before he'd gone to Azkaban.

Remus. Remus might have been a father figure for him once upon a time ago. But it seemed like it was too late for that. Remus may have been one of James Potter's best friends, but Sirius was the brother. James liked to have fun; he wouldn't take kindly to a voice of reason, and Remus certainly must have been that. Oddly enough, Remus's authority over him as a teacher almost made it seem as though he would have been more the father figure for him in third year than Sirius, who Harry only just barely knew. But maybe that's why it was Sirius that Harry bonded to instead. Sirius was wild, willful, and more willing to be the older brother to have fun with. Or a fun father. The kind that 13 year old Harry would rather have around him. Remus was closer to what a parent should be. He was patient, kind, and knew when limits were necessary. Remus wasn't the father either though. He wasn't quite a brother. Sirius might have been, but Harry couldn't quite see Remus in that capacity. But he didn't see him as an uncle either. A cousin maybe? An older cousin, somewhat more reserved, but still having a fun streak? Harry could see that. Easily he could see that.

And back to Mrs. Weasley. His surrogate mother. His mother by _choice_. Somehow, that knowledge warmed him. He was sure Lily Evans-Potter had loved him very much. But he was her flesh and blood. Mrs. Weasley had chosen to love him without any sort of obligation. Family by choice. She _chose_ to be his family when what was left of his blood family didn't want him. She chose to help him, to hug him, and to love him. She wasn't blood; she _was_ family.

But for now, Harry was content enough as he'd ever been…and the hollow place where he'd once longed for his birth parents to someday reappear to him hardly existed. Maybe fathers were overrated. Maybe _blood_ was overrated; it was spilled so easily by so many people. Maybe the only family he _needed_ was his cousin Remus, his brother Ron who was so loyal to him, and his know-it-all sister Hermione who wanted nothing but the best for him, his spirited little sister Ginny, his great-uncle Dumbledore, his fun uncle Arthur Weasley, his unofficial godfather Hagrid, his strict great-aunt McGonagall, and, just maybe, a new mother in Molly Weasley. His family. The Burrow was his home; Hogwarts his second home. Yes, this could be his life. He smiled to himself. Life might just be okay for a while. And maybe, someday in the relatively distant future he'd have a new home, something that was truly _his_ for the very first time. And a wife…a wife who loved him like no one else ever had. And…himself. Someday, in the relatively distant future, he'd be a loving husband and the best father the world had ever seen. He smiled to himself slowly.

He came out of his thoughts as he heard a sneeze on the other side of the door. He realized he'd probably been standing in front of Ron's door for quite some time now. He wrinkled his nose and wondered if Ron was done eating yet. True though his eating habits had mildly improved from his early Hogwarts days when Hermione had scolded him for talking with his mouth full, Ron's eating was still not exactly a pleasant sight.

Harry knocked. "Decent in there? I'm coming anyway." He opened the door to see Ron sitting up in bed. He was eating, but he had a hand clutched to his stomach.

"Harry, mate! Good to see you."

"I see your stomach is still cramping up?" Harry asked, sitting on the end of the bed.

"Yeah. Been like this since I took that dratted potion Fred and George gave me. Don't know when it's going to stop. Mum couldn't find anything in the cabinet that would work on it." He grimaced and ate another bite of his grilled cheese.

"It'll wear off by tonight when your beard grows in," Harry said cheerfully. "I see the stomach pain hasn't affected your appetite."

"Hey, a man's got to eat, and what's better than my mum's cooking?" Ron said, taking another bite. "What'd you mean about tonight?"

"I paid your darling brothers a visit," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "The stomach cramps are a two-day side affect. If you took the potion the night before last night, then this afternoon or tonight it should wear off, and when it does a full length Dumbledore beard will grow in."

"No kidding?" Ron asked.

"That's what they said." Harry lowered his voice. "How long has your Mum been here?"

"All morning. She showed up a little after Hermione left for work and has been here ever since. She's driving me nuts. I love her and all but a guy can only take so much love. I _did_ move out of the house."

"Don't worry, I'm taking her to lunch and away from you."

"Can I come?"

"You just ate and you said you want her to leave you alone," Harry said, exasperated.

"Oh, right." He settled back into the pillows. "You went to the _Bouncing Ferret_ without me," he accused, sounding sulky.

"It was just me and Hermione, Ron."

"You went out to a club with my wife," Ron added, sound sulkier. He didn't really mean it. He knew better than anybody that Harry and Hermione were just good friends; after all he was the one who was married to her and as far as he was concerned, he loved it, even if she drove him mad with her nagging sometimes. He brightened a little and decided to torture Harry in order to take his mind off his stomach pain. His nagging wife had told him not to drink whatever it was Fred and George gave him. He just thought he'd look really good with a beard. At least with one as long as Dumbledore's he could trim it to whatever length he liked. Maybe a nice goatee. "So, how are things with you and Josephine?" he asked slyly.

"Things are fine. She and I might be going Percy's dinner party on Friday. I've got a date _if _I decide to go. Do you know of any guys that'd be willing to put up with a dinner party with Percy at the table?"

Ron snorted. "Nope. _I_ wouldn't put up with him. He's gotten insufferable lately. He always wanted to be the youngest Minister of Magic and then his wife goes and gets the job."They talked awhile more before Harry decided he ought to get up. "Your mum probably done mending your socks. She was doing that while we've been up here. I'm going to take her to lunch."

"Alright, fine, leave me alone and miserable," Ron said.

"If you hadn't been stupid enough to drink something your brothers gave you, you could be at work right now," Harry said honestly.

"After this many years I should know better."

"You do know better—you just didn't care." Harry laughed and went to the door. "By the way, your wife doesn't think a beard will look very flattering on you."

"Aah well, what does she know?" Ron joked.

Harry considered. "She probably knows how to lock you out of here and make you spend the night on the couch." With an evil grin at his best friend, Harry went back downstairs to see Mrs. Weasley. As he reached the living room, he saw that she was about three quarters of the way through the pile of socks she was mending.

"Ready for lunch, Mrs. Weasley?" he asked, cheerily.

"All ready, Harry." Mrs. Weasley stood up and smoothed out her skirt.

"Where would you like to go?"

"Oh, I don't know…"

Harry Aperated them both nearby his favorite pizzeria, behind a stand of trees he was familiar with that would safely shield them from Muggle eyes. They were led to a booth and they sat down. A girl came and gave them menus and had them order drinks.

"This pizzeria is very nice, Harry. How did you learn about it?"

"I worked her for about a week, the summer before sixth year. When Dumbledore found out, he sent me a letter _strongly recommending_ that I quit, for my own safety. Apparently being out in public was too big of a safety risk," he said bitterly. It had been a shame. He'd really been getting along with that waitress who worked the same shift as he did. The pizzeria was outside of Little Whinging. Not so far out that he couldn't walk there, but it was a good distance. And it was far enough that the other workers and the customers (for the most part) hadn't heard any stories about "that strange Potter boy." What had her name been? Jessica? Gia? Gina? Giona? Yes! That was it. Giona. She'd been pretty. Dark brown hair, and eyes that matched. She was one of the only friends he'd ever really managed to make outside the wizarding world. He realized Mrs. Weasley was speaking to him and decided it would probably be a good idea to listen.

"—to go to Charlie's this morning and find out what's going on with the wedding plans, but when I heard Ronald was ill, I thought I ought to go over there instead. Maybe I'll see Charlie this afternoon. Should I owl ahead? Sometimes I get the feeling my boys don't want me around very much anymore," Mrs. Weasley said, a hint of sadness in her voice.

"No," Harry said.

"Yes. They seem to think that since they've moved out, they don't need their mother in their life anymore. It doesn't stop them from dropping by for dinner announced." She tried to look disapproving and only managed it for an instant. Her children were welcome anytime, night or day. "Now, how's the pepperoni?"

"A little spicy, you might just want cheese," Harry said. "But it tastes good."

"Let's split a pepperoni pizza then," she said.

The waitress came back, setting Harry's soda and Mrs. Weasley's iced tea on the table. "Are you ready to order?" she asked, taking out an ordering pad and a pen.

"Yes, we'll split a large pepperoni pizza," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Alright, ma'am." She wrote it down and picked up the menus. She was startled when she looked at Harry. He seemed familiar…

Harry looked up at the waitress as he handed her his menu. She looked to be about his age, maybe a year older. She seemed familiar, but she turned away before he could read her nametag. Harry watched her for a moment.

Mrs. Weasley looked at him with a knowing smile. "Someone you know? Or possibly a dinner date for this evening?"

Harry laughed. "No, I don't think so, she just looked so familiar…"

"Talk to her when she comes back then. Flirt with her. Be young." Mrs. Weasley a glint in her eye and winked at him.

"Really, Mrs. Weasley. I just want to teach right now. I've got 15 students lined up so far. I think it'll be good for me to have some structure to life again. Freedom is nice, but I like a little bit of structure." He really _was_ looking forward to settling into his teaching routine. Which reminded him, he still needed to get books and set schedules and all that stuff. Maybe he could convince Seamus to do it for him. The setting schedules that was, not the looking for textbooks. He'd rather find those himself.

"What about a family?" she asked.

"Really, Mrs. Weasley. I don't have any special lady friends in my life right now and I like it that way. You're the only one I need. My lunch date and mender of socks." He grinned at her.

"It _is_ nice having you and Josephine at home so often. It's lonely with Arthur at work all day, Ginny at Quidditch practice, and all the other children out of the house…"

A thought struck Harry. "Mrs. Weasley, how long were you out of Hogwarts before you and Mr. Weasley got married?"

"Oh, Arthur proposed to me about a week after graduation. We waited almost two years to get married though. Why?"

"What did you do before you got married?" he asked curiously.

"Well, I was training at St. Mungos to be a Healer, and then I became a Healer. I stayed one for a year and a half after I was married. I didn't quit until I was five months pregnant with Bill." She smiled fondly, thinking of Bill. He was such a heartbreaker.

"Did you ever think about going back?"

"I did think about it, but then there was Charlie not so long after Bill. And raising two boys is a full time job. I thought about going back once they were in Hogwarts. In fact I'd planned to. Then there was Percy. A couple of years later there were twins, and couple of years after that Ronniekins was born, and the year after that my baby girl. Taking care of that many children leaves no time for outside work. The thought of going back has crossed my mind in the last few years, particularly with so many of them out of the house. I just haven't done anything about getting another job. Healing was so wonderful I can't imagine doing another job if I went back into the work force." She sipped at her iced tea.  
Harry saw the logical answer. "Then don't. Go back to Healing. St. Mungos would be lucky to have someone like you on their staff. You could work in the maternity ward, or pretty much any ward. You've seen just about everything out there. And I can't think of anyone more caring."

Mrs. Weasley blushed. "Oh, Harry, I'd probably have to redo all my training. Can you imagine _me_ in a training class with all those seventeen and eighteen year olds?" she asked, laughing a little.

"You could do it. And it'd give you something to do. Besides, if you were around less often, your children would appreciate it more when you _were _around," Harry reasoned.

"That's not a bad idea. I'll have to talk it over with Arthur of course…but…I think it sounds splendid." The idea really did appeal to her. There were only so many friends to see, sweaters to mend, and things to do. Her boys were too old to need constant looking after. In fact, if they needed it at their ages it meant she hadn't done a good job to begin with. "Now, about that waitress…" Mrs. Weasley smiled. "You have a lovely smile, Harry. Smile at her when she comes by. And say hello to her. Ooh, look. Here she comes." Mrs. Weasley almost giggled like a schoolgirl.

The waitress came over and set the pizza down on the table. Unfortunately, the way her arm was stretched over to set down the pizza, Harry couldn't see her nametag.

Harry was a little embarrassed, but he didn't show it. If Mrs. Weasley wanted him to flirt a little, he could give a try. It might be fun. He looked up at the waitress and smiled at her. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she said warmly. She watched his smile and knocked over his soda as she set down the pizza. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm a little bit of a klutz sometimes. Were you drinking a Coke?"

"Yes, thanks. Don't worry about it."

"I'll bring you some more napkins," she said. She threw another, "I'm sorry!" over her shoulder as she left.

Mrs. Weasley jabbed him playfully. "You're as much of a heartbreaker as my Bill is," she said confidently.

"She slipped."

"She was distracted by your smile."

Harry started picking the ice up and wiping the spilled soda up wit the few napkins they had. He hadn't flirted or anything. Just smiled. A little friendly charm. Why had she acted so strange? He almost laughed, thinking about his silent joke. His charming personality and his ability to literally take out a wand and charm someone to trip (or, more accurately jinx them).  
The waitress came back with a couple of damp rags and a pile of napkins and she finished cleaning up the mess. When she was done, she looked at Harry again. There was a little shock and confusion in her eyes. She bit her tongue between her teeth as she looked at him for a moment. "Don't…don't I know you from somewhere?" she asked finally.  
Harry looked up at her, almost recognizing who she was. "Maybe."

"Did you used to live around here?" she asked.

"I worked here about four years ago. I didn't work here very long," he confessed.

The waitress continued to look at him. She knew who he was, she just couldn't quite remember. The eyes. His eyes were a startling green. She'd only ever known one person to have eyes that shade before and he had a scar on his… "This might sound odd, but could you brush your bangs off your forehead for a minute?"

Harry obliged.

A scar on his forehead shaped like a lightning bolt. It _was_ him! "Harry Potter, I never thought I'd see you again. You left off working here before we ever got to go out. Always thought you were sort of cute." She was the straightforward sort who said things as they came to her and didn't really care if they sounded a little too brash. After all, you only got to live once.

"My…grandfather didn't want me staying around and working. He wanted me to spend the summer with him and had me pack up and go visit."

"Is this your mum?" Giona asked, turning to Mrs. Weasley.

Harry replied without hesitation. "Yeah. This is my mum." Harry couldn't remember having told her much about his family while he had worked there. He might have mentioned living with his aunt and uncle, but if he had, she'd never remember.

Mrs. Weasley beamed at him and shook her hand. "Pleased to meet you. I'll be back. I'm just going to use the little girl's room." Mrs. Weasley stood up and went to find the toilet, motioning to Giona to sit next to Harry.

Giona complied. "So where have you been for the last four years?"


	21. Older Friends

**Chapter 21—Older Friends**

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**Disclaimer:** I don't own these characters for the most part. You know that.

**Author's Note:** I despise this chapter. I gave me a heck of a hard time. If it's really terrible, I can scrap it and start over, but I think I can get over this and move on. I really didn't mean for things to be as date-ish as they sounded last chapter. In an effort to get this chapter up immediately, I'm not responding to reviews this time. Sorry again for the tardiness.

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Harry and Giona sat and talked for about ten minutes, getting reacquainted. She asked how he was doing, and he asked what she'd been up to the last four years. Harry began to get suspicious and wonder if maybe Mrs. Weasley had Disapperated.

"Well, I had a year of secondary left the last time you and I met. I finished that and I'm in a college nearby. I'm still working here part time to help pay for it." She shrugged. "That's pretty much my life. Working, school, and a bit of dating here and there. What have you been up to for the last four years? I never saw you after that summer." She sounded almost accusatory.

Harry shrugged at her apologetically. "All my secondary schooling was at boarding school in Scotland. After I left here that summer, my grandfather pretty much wanted me with him in the summers. He thought Little Whinging was a little too city, unsafe; I know it's not, but you know how old people are."

"And after boarding school?" she asked, knowing that he still had another two years to account for.

"I didn't work for a while. Then I took some odd jobs here and there. I tried my hand at some semi-professional sports, nothing really major. Did some interior decorating and painting. Now I'm starting up a private tutoring and schooling program."

"You've certainly had a busy time of it then," she said.

Harry nodded. "I moved four times before finally deciding on moving back home to be with the family for a bit."

"So, do you live in the area?" Giona asked, tilting her head to one side.

"No, not really. We were just in the area today so I thought we'd stop by here for a pizza."

"Oh."

Harry noticed she sounded a little disappointed. What was wrong with a little friendly flirting now and then, right? "I could stay around here for a while and we could go out for dinner tonight if you wanted. You look pretty cute yourself." Maybe could borrow Hermione's father's car. The Grangers didn't live all that far away. Probably about an hour or so. He could Apperate there, borrow the car, and drive it back here.

"Sounds great. I get off my shift at six tonight. I'd say 'let's get the whole gang back together' but you didn't stick around here long enough the first time to make any friends besides me."

Harry laughed. "I'll pick you up at seven?"

"Terrific. I'll go get you a fresh drink." She winked at him, standing up as Mrs. Weasley returned.

"Hello, there was such a line in there," Mrs. Weasley lied. A fairly obvious lie; even though ladies' rooms were typically crowded, there was hardly anyone in the pizzeria and all three of them knew that. Mrs. Weasley slid back into her seat in the booth with Harry. "So? How are things? You looked pretty friendly there."

"Mrs. Weasley, it was just a little flirting and a dinner with an old friend." He wasn't even sure he'd managed "flirting" correctly.

"Of course it was, dear," she said, not believing him for a minute. The girl was fairly pretty.

They finished their lunch with pleasant conversation and no one knocked over any more drinks. As Harry paid the bill, he winked at Giona and she wrote down the address to pick her up from.

Outside, Harry and Mrs. Weasley parted paths, Apparating to separate destinations.

"I'm going to pay the Grangers a visit, Mrs. Weasley. Will you think about what I told you earlier?"

"Alright, dear. Have a lovely time, and remember what I told _you_ earlier," she said.

Harry waved her off and Apparated to the Grangers' backyard. This was the designated Apparating point for any of Hermione's friends who ever Apparated to the house, and it had been the Aparating point ever since they'd first learned to Aparate and had accidentally arrived in the living room once and sent papers scattering everywhere. The backyard was surrounded by a reasonably high wooden fence that kept him out of sight of Hermione's neighbors. He knocked on the back door.

Mrs. Granger answered. She blinked when she saw him. "Harry? You haven't been around to see us in a long time."

"Hi, Mrs. Granger. I hope this isn't a bad time."

"No, come in."

Harry and Mrs. Granger had a good time catching up, and he told her about Hermione and Ron's house—she hadn't seen it since they moved in.

After a while as the visit was winding down and Harry asked about the car.

"I'm not going anywhere else today, you can borrow my car."

"Thanks, Mrs. Granger. I'll bring it back tonight."

"Don't worry about it. If you get in late, just park it and put the key in the mailbox."

"I really appreciate this. It's tough…"

"Trying to keep a foot in both worlds? I don't know how Hermione has managed it as well as she has. I don't think she really does see any of her friends from before Hogwarts. There weren't many but…She knows which world she wants."

They said the usual goodbyes and she handed him the key. Soon, Harry was gone, speeding down the road and hoping he wouldn't get pulled over by the police; he never had gotten around to getting a driver's license. He mused to himself. No Muggle identification. No driver's license. Sure most of the wizarding world could recognize him by looking at his forehead but if he got pulled over now by a Muggle cop he'd be in a great deal of trouble.

Harry drove around, looking for a store where he could find some slacks and a nicer shirt. Sure it was just a friendly date, Giona had said as much when she when she said he didn't stick around long enough to make friends, but that didn't mean he couldn't look nice anyway.  
He found a department store that looked right and went inside, coming back out wearing khakis and a black button-down shirt. At least he wasn't wearing jeans.

That taken care of, Harry checked his watch. He still had a few hours left and it would only take an hour to reach Little Whinging where he was supposed to pick Giona up. Deciding to use the time constructively, he searched for a bookstore. It took a while, but he found one that looked suitable.

Searching out the geography aisle, Harry found exactly what he was looking for: maps, atlases, and even a globe. He thought every proper classroom ought to have a globe. Tucking said globe under his arm, he looked through the books. He scanned the titles: _Food Around the Globe_, _A Brief History of Europe_, _Pangea and Beyond_, and _Hola, Bonjour, and Hello _were just a few of them. He grabbed these and a few others, trying to keep in mind that he was going to be dealing with kids between the ages of five and nine for geography.

Moving on, he went to look at children's books, looking for things simple enough for kids just learning to read. Dr. Seuss. Spot. ABCs. He picked up a few of them and moved on again, looking for something a little more challenging.

By the time Harry left the store he was satisfied with his purchases but realized he was running late for his dinner with Giona.

Speeding just a little, Harry thought he might just make it on time. Well, he was going to be on time until he got lost. He took a wrong turn about three streets from where Giona lived. The delay in getting back to the right street cost him nearly fifteen minutes; fifteen minutes he didn't have lying around to spare.

Finally he arrived at the house and rang the bell.

A pretty, dark haired girl about Harry's age answered the door. "Hello."

"I'm here to see Giona," Harry said.

"Oh, you must be her pizza friend. Gi will be down in a minute. She's getting dressed." The girl yelled over her shoulder. "Gi! He's here!"

Here he was, fifteen minutes late, and she still wasn't ready. Women! He stood awkwardly in the doorway.

Another girl joined the first at the door. This one had short, spiky green hair and half a dozen metal filled holes in various locations on her face. "I'm May," she said, sticking out her hand.

"Harry." He shook her hand, and looking at her guessed she was probably around 18, possibly older.

"Are you from around here?"

"I used to be. I spent most of the last ten years in Scotland until recently."

"Why?" the first girl asked.

"What?"

"Why go there, why move away?" May asked.

"Boarding school."

"Why? Were you a problem?"

"Or were you just too spoiled for regular school?"

"The boarding school was a family tradition."

Yet another girl joined the first two and this third girl _still_ was not Giona. This girl was a short girl with auburn hair. Harry figured she was probably a couple of years older than him. As way of introduction she said, "Julie. What are your intentions?"

"Intentions? We're going out for a bite to eat." Harry wondered if he should run. Running was looking like a very good idea at the moment…

"Leave him alone, girls, he's not Jack the Ripper," Giona said, pushing her way through. "Does he pass?"

The dark haired girl gave a single nod.

May gave a simple, "Yes."

Julie shrugged. "I just got here. I guess he passes."

"I'll be back later, don't burn the house down while I'm gone," Giona said, stepping past them. She grabbed Harry's hand and steered him away from them and towards the car.

When they were inside and the car was started, Harry looked back; the girls were still standing in the doorway, waving them off. As they drove away, Harry asked, "Er, who exactly were those people?"

"My roommates. Rent is expensive. You didn't think a college girl could afford to rent a house on her own, did you? I work in a pizza shop. May is my cousin; she moved in after our last roommate got married and moved out. Julie and I have classes together. Amarice I've known forever," Giona said. "They're very effective for getting rid of creepy guys who are up to no good."

"I see. Where do you want to go?" Harry asked.

"Anything but pizza is really fine with me. I'm not very dressed up; I had to cover part of somebody else's shift so I got home later than expected." Giona's hair was in a high ponytail and she was wearing a t-shirt, sweatshirt, and brown corduroys.

"Pick a place—and tell me how to get there. I haven't been in the area in a long time." He was pleased he was finding his way around as well as he was.

"Take a right on the next street, and then a left on the one after that. It should bring us to a nice café."

"Do they sell sandwiches there?"

"I think so."

"Then it sounds great," Harry said.

They drove on in silence for a few more minutes.

"Do you mind if I turn on the radio?" Giona asked.

"Help yourself." He winced as she turned the radio on and she flipped to a station playing some very loud heavy metal. It just wasn't his taste. He was grateful when she told they stopped the car and settled into a little booth at the café.

A handsome waiter approached them with menus and took their drink orders.

Harry and Giona looked over their menus and picked out their sandwiches. When the waiter came back with their drinks, they ordered and finally got around to talking and catching up.

Harry said, "I'm surprised you remembered me when we met today. We haven't seen each other in a really long time."

Giona laughed. "How could I forget you? The bloke that the boss put on our shift to replace you was horrible. Clumsy, arrogant, short, and his face was covered with zits. Not to mention that he kept hitting on me. I had to have my older brother have a word with him."

"You didn't just sic your friends on him?" Harry laughed. "I think they'd have been effective."

"Back then I only knew Amarice and May. I hadn't met Julie yet, and at that age May wasn't exactly the way she is now."

"So the piercings and hair are new?" Harry asked.

Giona sipped her drink. "Fairly. She didn't start getting them until the last few months. Her mother tolerated the hair, but once she started on the piercings she threw a fit. One of my roommates was moving out so we offered the spot to May, providing she got a job and could pay her share of the rent. It was better that than her living with her friends or her boyfriend or something. This way _I_ can keep an eye on her."

"Smart thinking."

"So what about you?"

"What about me?"

"I don't know. What sports are you into? Politics? Pop culture? Why'd you move back with your mother? Pick a topic."

"These days I've sort of become a bit of a hermit. I've cut myself off from the television. I don't read the paper. Haven't kept up with professional sports in ages. I don't know what's going on in the world," Harry admitted. It was true; except for the little bit of time he spent in Ottery St. Catchpole he had mostly cut himself off from the Muggle world. Even earlier in the year when he lived in Muggle parts of Britain he hadn't had much to do with it.

"This was probably a bad idea. We were friends four years ago. We didn't know each other well then, and we don't know each other at all now."

Harry shrugged, feeling annoyed that Dumbledore had forced him to quit when he had. "We can't pick up where we left off, but we can start over as new friends."

"Friends who are never going to see each other?" she asked, looking at him wryly. "You don't live around here anymore."

"How about pen pals then? You write me about how your schooling is going and I'll write you about what weird direction life takes me. We write once a month. Deal?" The postman didn't know where the Burrow was, but he could rent a P.O. Box.

Giona laughed. "Deal. Let's finish our sandwiches and get out of here. We can catch a movie or something."

"Only if you pick the movie though; I don't even know what's playing."

After that, they seemed to get along better for the most part, talking without really saying much of anything. It wasn't long before they were off and driving again, heading toward the cinema. As they bought their tickets and got in line to see the show, Harry tried to remember the last time he'd seen a movie in a theatre. He hadn't done it more than maybe half a dozen times, that much was certain.

The movie was all right, but it was very loud, and the screen was too bright. Harry found himself blinking when he came out. Compared to the bright screen, it was dark outside.

"So how did you like the movie?" Giona asked as they got in the car.

"It was fine."

"Not great?"

"Not really my sort of movie I guess," Harry said, shrugging as he backed out of the parking space.

"You struck me as an action movie guy though," Giona said, puzzled.

"Well, people can surprise you." He'd had enough action in his life. He didn't need to see other people running away from people who were trying to kill them. Wasn't the point of a movie to get _away_ from real life?

As they were driving back towards Giona's home, Harry saw cop car lights flashing behind him. He groaned as he noticed he was speeding. With no other choice, he pulled over to the side of the road.

"What happened?"

"I was speeding. I didn't even notice that officer behind us," Harry said. He hoped he wasn't going to have to take out his wand and perform a memory modifier. If he did, he'd have to do one on the cop and Giona.

The officer exited his vehicle and approached Harry's car.

Harry rolled down the window. "Good evening."

"License and registration?" the officer asked in a deep voice.

Harry reached for the glove box and took out the registration. "This isn't my car. It belongs to a friend." He handed it to the officer.

"Well, well." The officer started to laugh. "Identification?"

"I don't have any."

"Sure you do, just pull back the hair off your forehead and take a picture," the officer said, returning his voice to its normal pitch.

"Colin, is that you?" Harry asked.

"Who else is going to ask you to pull the hair off your face and take a picture?"

"I can't say I'm not glad to see you," Harry said, laughing with relief and relaxing.

Colin shook his head. "You're lucky I'm the one that pulled you over, you know that?"

"I know."

Colin looked over the registration that Harry handed him. "This car is registered to Judy Granger. Any relation to Hermione?"

"Her mother. I borrowed it from her this afternoon."

Giona tapped Harry on the shoulder. "If you borrowed this car from your friend's mother, then how did you and your mother get here earlier? And how did she get home?"

"My mum and I drove out here together today, and then she dropped me off at my friend's parents' house to borrow their car so she could go home," Harry explained.

Colin gave him an odd look. "Your mum, Harry?"

"Yes, Colin, my mum," Harry said this and gave him a look that clearly said, "shut-up, you dolt!"

"Why don't you get out of the car?" Colin offered.

Harry complied and they went to stand a few feet away to talk.

"What's all that about your mum?"

"It was Mrs. Weasley and it was easier to just explain her that way rather than complicate things with the truth. We Apperated to the area here to go out for a bite, and then she Apperated home. I had plans, so I Apperated to the Grangers to borrow the car."

"I see."

"Now, what are you doing all dressed up like a Muggle police officer?"

Colin started laughing. "I _am_ a Muggle police officer, Harry. You know that Dennis and I are both wizards. He'll be leaving school this year. Well, we've got a sister just a couple of years younger than Dennis. She's all Muggle like our dad. Dennis is going to go into magical law enforcement when he graduates. I didn't want to be completely cut off from my sister. It was hard enough for her with both of her big brothers away for seven years. I was never great at school anyway. I talked to Dumbledore before I graduated, told him what I wanted to do, and he arranged the paperwork. He got me records as if Hogwarts was a regular secondary school. That's pretty much it."

"Well, congratulations. Are you still into photography?"

"A bit. When I have the time for it."

"So are you living Muggle?" Harry asked curiously.

Colin nodded. "For the most part. I grew up that way, so it's not hard. I keep my wand on me though; never know when it'll come in handy."

"I'm living with the Weasleys and this is the second time I've been out with a Muggle recently. I haven't been keeping up with the papers or news for a while. There's nothing to talk about. Pretty much my whole life can't be talked about. I don't want to talk about my young life and I can't talk about the magical parts."

"Are you on a date?" Colin asked, grinning and looking back at Giona.

"No. Just old friends catching up. I'll talk to you later Colin. I've still got to get her home and take this car back to the Grangers and they live an hour, away."

Colin clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't speed."

"Yeah, yeah. I might not meet such a forgiving cop next time." Harry grinned and got back in the car, waving Colin off. He started the engine.

"What was all that about?"

"Just an old school friend giving me a hard time." He pulled back onto the road.

After a moment of silence Giona asked, "What did you say your school's name was?"

"I didn't."

"Well?"

"Hogwarts."

Giona was thoughtful for a moment, staring out the window at familiar houses and streets. "That's an unusual name. I imagine not many schools named that."

Harry agreed. "No. It's probably one of a kind."

"And you said your police friend went there?"

"Yes. He was a year behind me."

She became quiet again and Harry could feel her eyes studying him. "Are you a wizard, Harry?"

Those five words nearly made Harry crash.

"You are, aren't you?"

"You didn't go to Hogwarts, did you? I'd remember you there," Harry said quietly, after a long silence.

"No. But I know someone who did. I never told anyone. One day his mum and step-dad decided they shouldn't stay in the neighborhood anymore and they just moved. I never heard from any of them again. Except for him. He sent me a few of letters, the first one was a few months after they moved away. The letters were on funny paper. And an owl brought them. He was eleven then, so I had to have been twelve. He said that he was going to a special school where he could learn to control his gifts; I'd seen him accidentally do things a couple of times."

That sounded very wizardish.

"What was his name?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Dean. Dean Thomas." She shook her head. "I haven't thought about him in years."

"Did he ever mention politics or anything in his letters?" Harry asked.

"He stopped writing when I was fourteen. I don't know why, but the letters stopped all together. He would talk about his friends, ask me how his favorite football team was doing, that sort of thing. He always said he was at Hogwarts, and that at Hogwarts life was always the same. Undisturbed, I think he called it."

If Giona was fourteen, that would make Dean and Harry thirteen. The year Sirius Black was on the loose. Well, Dean had once said he never told his parents how bad things were getting in the wizarding world, otherwise they wouldn't have let him come back to school. Giona didn't know who he was in the wizarding world; that made him feel a little better.  
Harry pulled the car up in front of the house.

"Would your roommates freak out if you started getting mail via owls again?"

"I don't think so. I'll tell them you raise birds."

Harry smiled. "Then you'll keep me up to date in what's going on out here in the real world?"

"Sure. You just tell me how things are going with that school you're starting. Is it for kids like you?"

Harry nodded. "There really isn't anything set up for them now to learn the basics. Hogwarts is only a secondary school; nowhere for kids to learn before then except a regular school and that's not always an option."

Giona kissed him on the cheek in a friendly manner and got out of the car. "Goodbye, Harry. You'd better write soon."

"Bye, Giona. I will."

With that, Harry started the drive back to the Grangers, carefully watching his speedometer.


	22. Back at the Burrow

**Chapter 22—Back at the Burrow****  
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**Disclaimer:** I don't own these characters for the most part. You know that.

**Author's Note:** I despise this chapter. I gave me a heck of a hard time. If it's really terrible, I can scrap it and start over, but I think I can get over this and move on. I really didn't mean for things to be as date-ish as they sounded last chapter. In an effort to get this chapter up immediately, I'm not responding to reviews this time. Sorry again for the tardiness.

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After returning the car and leaving the key in the Grangers' mailbox, Harry Apperated back to the kitchen of the Burrow, setting all of his shopping bags down. At the table, just starting on a big bowl of ice cream, was Josephine.

"Hey, Jo," Harry said tiredly.

She turned and threw her arms around him an exuberant hug. "I'm so glad you're coming on Friday. I just came back from seeing Penny. The ice cream is to help me recover from the visit. It would be so boring at the dinner party tomorrow without somebody there for me to talk to," she said as she let go of him. Then she saw his face. It wasn't just his eyes; she knew the look on his _face_, the guilty look. There was a long pause. "You aren't coming, are you?" she asked finally. It was not so much a question as a statement.

He nodded. He had felt a whole lot better about this decision when he was talking Seamus and not standing in front of Jo. He sat in one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

"Come on, Harry. You _can't_ do this to me. I need some real conversation at the party or I'll die." A little melodramatic, but she got her point across.

"You'll live. _And_ you'll find someone else to talk to," Harry promised.

"Oh, come on! Who else but you will make fun of Penny and Percy with me?" she whined, plopping down in the seat across from him.

"Did you ask—"

"Yes I did, and no they won't. I asked both of them. Neither felt to compulsion to waste an evening at their older brother's dinner party."

"Tough," Harry said sympathetically, reaching out to pat her on the hand.

She snatched her hand back and glared at him. "You can't mean that, Harry. No date _and_ no one to talk to? I won't survive. I just won't." She crossed her arms as though daring him to contradict her.

"I really don't want to go…" Harry said guiltily. He wouldn't go. He just wouldn't.

"Does it look like I want to go?" Jo asked in exasperation. Having to go at all was bad enough, having to go and sit there alone amongst boring ministry officials would be absolute torture to the highest degree as far as she was concerned.

"I was going to ask you to tell Percy and Penelope that I was sick and couldn't make it. You could fake it too. It's not like your mum will come over here and check up on your or anything."

"No, they're too smart to buy that. They'd never believe we were _both_ sick. If they accepted that as an excuse, but didn't believe it then it puts us back in awkwardville with them and sends out the wrong message _again_. Besides that, I owe it to her to show up, even if _you_ don't."

Harry flicked his wand, summoning another spoon from the drawer. He tasted the ice cream; chocolate was his favorite. He felt some of his resolve against going trickling away. "Maybe, I'll go. So where does this leave you if I don't go?"

"It leaves me at Percy and Penny's dinner party alone with a bunch of stuffy ministry officials," Jo said, taking another spoonful of ice cream.

"And this leaves me sitting at home."

"No, it leaves you sitting at home feeling guilty," Jo corrected. "Guilty for leaving me to suffer at Penny and Percy's party, and leaving Hannah's cousin dateless. Or didn't you ask her to go yet?"

"I did ask her," Harry admitted. "I haven't canceled on her yet."

"Ha! I knew you'd feel guilty," Jo said triumphantly. "You aren't going to upset her by telling her that she can't go now, are you?"

"If I go and bring a date, you have to too." After all the bad publicity the article caused it'd be a good idea to show support for Penelope by going to the function, no matter how much they didn't want to go.

"Harry, I tried. I couldn't get a date. I already told you I couldn't even get Fred or George to take me."

Harry had an idea. "I've got just the wizard for you. He's a couple of years younger than you but I'll bet he'd go with you."

Jo looked at him warily as they both silently ate another spoonful of ice cream. "Alright, who?"

"Colin Creevy."

"The annoying Gryffy who used to follow you around with that blasted camera?"

"That's the one. He's not so bad once you get to know him. He's out of Hogwarts now and he's a Muggle policeman."

"No dice, Potter," she said wryly. "I think my sister would prefer me to show up with someone a little more involved in the community. Next?"

"There's Seamus. He works at the _Prophet_ and I'll bet he's free tomorrow night."  
Jo screwed up her eyes in concentration as though trying to draw up a mental image of him. "Doesn't ring a bell. Who else?"

"Who cares if you don't know who he is? Just a blind date for a dinner party. Remember, you're the one who convinced me to take on a blind date. How about Neville?"

"No good. I've gotten the impression that he's seeing somebody."

"That was just one date he said he had to go to," Harry said, tugging the bowl of ice cream closer to him.

"I think he's been seeing somebody more long term," Jo said thoughtfully, tugging the ice cream back towards her. "Don't you have any more male friends?"

"Haven't you noticed most of my friends are girls? There's you, Ginny, Luna, Hermione, Ron, and Neville. That's pretty much my list of close friends. Ron's married, and you think Neville's seeing somebody. That leaves Colin and Seamus."

"Colin's a baby! Barely out of Hogwarts. I'd be a cradle robber."

"No way. He's the same age as Gin. That's not that big of an age difference."

"I guess it _is_ either him or Seamus." She rolled her eyes. "What I wouldn't give for an everyday work place where I could meet normal guys."

"You don't mean that. You wouldn't do well trapped behind the same desk all day with the same people," Harry said, looking at her levelly.

"That's true. I guess Colin wouldn't be so bad. He's a policeman?"

Harry could sense her warming up to the idea. "Yeah. Think of it as…building bridges. Promoting cooperation with the Muggle world. Your sister is the first non-Pureblood Minister of Magic. That's a big deal."

Jo sighed, sounding defeated. "Deal. I owe it to her to show up and make a good impression on the Ministry snobs. Don't tell her I told you, but she's already worried about making a good impression. Normally the Minister has a big, fancy, formal house."

"That's because normally they've got some house that's been in their family for generations."

"I know. But the thing is, Percy and Penny didn't have a big fancy house or anything when they got married. They were just living in a flat. Shortly after Penny was appointed Minister or Ministress or whatever you want to call it, Percy started worrying about their image." Jo shook her head. "Their flat was nice _and_ it was close to the Ministry. I still don't see why they moved. Part of why Penny got the job is her normalness. She's smart, but she's not some crazy, stuck up snob. People liked the idea of having a regular person in office I think."  
"Point?" Harry ate the last spoonful of ice cream.

"The point is, once she got the position, Percy thought they should move. They didn't have a lot of money saved up, but they had some. They bought a big fancy house in the middle of nowhere, but it's old. Really old. And it needed a lot of work. They've been working night and day trying to make it look great. Now they're both nervous that it won't be good enough. It's almost done, but not quite."

Harry picked up the bowl and spoons, heading toward the sink. "How much more work does the place need?"

"Plenty. But they've sharpened up the outside of the building, and the entrance just inside. They've redone the dining room and a couple of other rooms. It's just that even with magic these things take time to do. They're running out of time."

"It's not like we're holding down steady jobs or anything right now that we need to get up and go anywhere everyday. We could offer to go over and help tomorrow, you know."  
"We could," Jo agreed, not sounding very enthusiastic.

"You said yourself that we should do something for the way that article made her look. Trust me, I'm the king of bad publicity and I know how aggravating it is."  
"I'll think about it," she conceded unhappily.

"You and I could paint and Neville could bring in some things from the nursery for the yard. We could make it a party," Harry coaxed.

"Well, I don't like parties," Jo said, sticking her tongue out at him childishly.

"Fine. Then we won't invite you and we'll have lots of fun without you," Harry teased.

"I guess it wouldn't hurt to offer to help," Jo said grudgingly. "But if I do this, you owe me big."

"I do not. Remember, I'm doing you a favor by going so you don't die of boredom." Harry stretched his arms.

"Fine, I'll write the letter to Penny, you Owl Colin for me and make sure he's free."

"Deal," he said, clapping her on the back. They wandered into the empty living room. "Is everybody already in bed?" Harry asked, suppressing a yawn. He'd had a really long day.

Jo looked at her watch, knowing the clock on the wall would be of no use to her. "It is after midnight, Harry. It was after eleven when you got home. I thought you went out with Mrs. Weasley, but she came back hours ago." She settled herself into the couch and Harry joined her.

"I did go out with Mrs. Weasley. I was running errands this morning and then I met her at Ron and Hermione's place. You and I really need to head over there early tomorrow morning. I promise it'll be worth the effort."

"Really?"

"Yeah. His beard was supposed to grow in tonight and it's going to look like Dumbledore's."

Jo snorted. "Promise?"

"That's what the twins told me."

"I suppose they can be trusted with that sort of thing. So what'd you do after your errands?" she asked, poking him in the stomach.

"I went to Ron and Hermione's place and I met Mrs. Weasley there and we Apperated to my old neighborhood area and grabbed a bite to eat. I ran into an old friend so I stuck around the area and we had dinner."

"Uh-huh."

"Between lunch and dinner I went shopping for some books and things for my students and—"

"Where are the bags?"

"Bags?"

"Shopping bags."

"Oh, I guess I left them in the kitchen." He blinked; he was getting tired. "So after shopping I met my friend for dinner and—"

"Those aren't the clothes you left in this morning," she pointed out, starting to get groggy.

"Nope. I bought clothes when I bought books. I ran into Colin on the road. He pulled me over for speeding."

"You were in a car?"

Harry leaned his head back into the old sofa. "I borrowed it from Hermione's mum. I was speeding and Colin pulled me over."

"I see." Jo felt her eyes shutting. She tried to stand up and couldn't seem to make her muscles work.

"It was funny. Giona knew about us. She was a friend of one of my dor…" And he fell asleep. Jo was almost asleep and hadn't realized that Harry wasn't talking anymore. In a matter of seconds, the sandman had claimed her.

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Harry woke up groggily. His neck was killing him and his arm had gone numb. He found he was slouched horribly on the couch with his neck at an odd angle and his head on Jo's. Jo had somehow wound leaning partly across Harry, particularly his arm, which had no feeling left in it. He noticed that someone had covered them up with a quilt.

Jo's mouth was slightly open and dry looking. She'd probably been snoring earlier in the night when he was asleep.

Harry nudged her, trying to wake her up. "Jo, get up."

She groaned. She didn't want to move. It was clearly too early to get up.

"Jo, it's morning, move it."

She muttered something incoherently.

"Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you." Harry used his free arm to push Jo off of him so he wasn't pinned under her anymore, then he let her crash back to the sofa again when he was out of her way.

This was enough to wake her. "Ow! What'd you do that for, you son of a witch?"

"I warned you. It's morning. Wake up already. We've got to go make fun of Ron."Jo tried to decide if this was worth waking up for or not. "Maybe."

Ginny entered the room then, grinning smugly and clutching a camera in her hands. "Don't bother getting up, I've already got the photographs."

Harry looked at her. She'd gotten photographs of them asleep on the couch?

"I was over at Ron's this morning and the blackmail photos are right in this camera. He looks so ridiculous in a beard. Hermione made him shave it off, but not before I got my pictures." Ginny danced around gleefully.

"Ron told me he wanted to keep the beard though," Harry said.

Jo opened her eyes, glaring at Harry. "See, now you've woken me up for no reason!" she grumbled.

Ginny stared at the wall thoughtfully. "I think Hermione said that he had two choices. Either the beard was getting cut off or something else was."

Harry winced. Hermione could be _very_ persuasive. "Gin, Josephine and I are going to get up and help Penelope and Percy finish up some things around their house before their dinner party tonight. Do you want to help?"

"Can't. I've got to get changed and develop these photos before I leave for work. We're having a big team meeting today and we're going to go over some new plays." Practically skipping, Ginny left the room.

Jo tugged Harry's sleeve. "Mister, I'm not going anywhere for at least another hour. Look at this watch. Do you see what I see? I see that it's too early to even think about getting up yet. You can be awake if you want to, but I'm going back to sleep." With that, she promptly resettled herself on the sofa and fell asleep again.

Harry looked around. It did seem a little early to be awake. He tucked the blanket around Jo and settled himself a little farther from her on the couch, hoping that when he woke up again he'd be a little more pain free than the first time.

* * *

As with most other things in life, Harry had no luck when he woke up. He was lying with his feet and legs as though he was sitting on the sofa, but his arm was crooked and on the sofa arm and his head was on top of it. It wasn't even the arm he'd numbed first; now his opposite arm was numb. Not to mention that his back was sore from the odd angle he was at. He looked for Jo.

Jo had rolled over and had her head on Harry's knee with the blanket half on and half off of her. Her hair was mussed from sleep. She was almost curled up in a fetal position.

"Hey, Jo, wake up."

"No. Go away," she muttered.

"Josephine Adelaide Clearwater, get up right now!" Harry said, imitating her mother.

It did the trick, just as Harry knew it would. Jo didn't react well to hearing her full name. She wasn't exactly fond of it. She had once told him that with a long first name and a long last name the least her parents could have done was give her a short middle name.

She shot up from where she was lying and glared at him. "What'd you do that for? I could have slept a little longer."

"Oh, come on. You've had plenty of sleep. We've got owls to write and you've got to help your sister."

Jo looked at him petulantly. "Alright but _you're_ making breakfast if there isn't any already out there."

"Fine. Just go shower or something. Maybe that'll help you wake up." He swatted her in the arm as he got up off the couch. He looked back to see that she hadn't moved and was still lying there, supported by her elbow. Rolling his eyes, he stuck out a hand and pulled her to her feet. He gave her a gentle shove toward that stairs and started into the kitchen.

He found Mr. Weasley and Ginny finishing eating breakfast with Mrs. Weasley.

"Finally awake, Harry?" Ginny asked cheerfully.

"Yeah. I fell asleep on the couch when I got home last night."

Mrs. Weasley gave him a look that he couldn't quite read. "Yes, I saw you both on the couch when I came down early this morning and I put that blanket on you." She looked at her daughter.

"I wasn't quite quiet enough when I left this morning," she said sheepishly.

"Where _did_ you got this morning, Ginny?" Mr. Weasley asked over his newspaper.

"Went out to check on my brother. I wanted to see if Ron had recovered from his stomachache yet," she said innocently.

Mrs. Weasley looked at her suspiciously.

Breakfast passed awkwardly and Ginny and Mr. Weasley were leaving by the time Jo came downstairs, yawning and grumbling to herself.

"What are you kids doing today?" Mrs. Weasley asked, clearing up Mr. Weasley and Ginny's breakfast things and putting new portions of food out for Jo and Harry.

"We're going to help Percy and Penelope get ready for their Ministry dinner party," Harry said.

"Oh, that's nice. And how was your date last night?" Mrs. Weasley asked, sipping coffee.

Jo quirked an eyebrow at him questioningly. She'd been awake enough last night to remember him saying he went out with a friend.

"We decided that it really wasn't going to work for us as a date, so we decided early on in the evening to just make it a movie and dinner between friends. Actually she's friends with someone in Ron and mine's year at Hogwarts."

"Who?"

"Dean Thomas. And while we were out we ran into Colin Creevy," Harry said.

"Colin? What's he doing?" Ginny asked curiously, stopping herself as she was about to leave the room.

Harry took a big sip of orange juice. "He's a Muggle law enforcer. A policeman."

"Really? How interesting," Mrs. Weasley said.

With food in her and a shower and clean clothes on her, Jo was a little more coherent now. "I think I remember you saying something about that. Would those be your shopping bags over in that corner?"

Harry looked around. "Yeah. I think so."

"I had to move them this morning," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Oh, that's fine. Just some books and maps and things. And the clothes I was wearing yesterday."

Jo sighed, pushing her plate away. "I guess if we're going to help my sister we might as well get to it." She looked at Harry and wrinkled her nose. She touched a hand to her still wet hair. "I've already showered and gotten dressed. You oughta do the same. Your hair's worse than usual."

"Yeah, well you're not a very good pillow. My arm went numb."

"It was your fault. Keeping me up talking all hours of the night," she said defensively.

"It was not. It wasn't even late. It was barely after midnight. Besides, you were already awake."

Waving her hand at him, she shooed Harry away as Mrs. Weasley and Ginny looked on with amusement. Ginny looked at her watch and realized she was going to be late for work. She Disapperated on the spot, the crack of imploding air banging in her wake.

Mrs. Weasley just looked at Josephine for a moment silently. Then a knowing smile passed her lips and she and Josephine started clearing away the remainder of the breakfast things.

"It's nice to see the two of you getting along so well, Josephine. Who knows what life will bring?"

Josephine looked at her with wide-eyes. "Me and Harry? Mrs. Weasley, I'm sorry, but that's crazy. We fell asleep on the couch talking after his date last night. Nothing else."

Mrs. Weasley gave an innocent shrug.

"Mrs. Weasley, you can't really think that we would do anything do you?"

"Stranger things have happened, Josephine. If I'm not mistaken this is Harry's second non-date since he's been here." She started humming something that sounded suspiciously like_ Here Comes the Bride_.

Jo did her best to ignore Mrs. Weasley and Flooed to the Ministry to talk to Penny. She asked Mrs. Weasley to tell Harry to follow her when he was done getting ready.  
Mrs. Weasley agreed, a smile still on her face.

* * *

**Author's Note Continued:** I LIKE this chapter. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy because I get to continually torture such fun characters. Okay, the "No dice, Potter" line was probably kind of weird. We're doing _**Guys and Dolls**_ for the school summer muscial and the line was like something they would say in that and I thought it sounded cool. Anyway, happy Thursday!


	23. Helping Hands

**Chapter 23—Helping Hands

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**

**Disclaimer: **Don't own this. You know the drill.

**Author's Note:** They won't let me respond to reviews anymore. :( Stupid new rule. Anyway, updates should come sooner. Expect a **_We Were Here_** update within a week, and a new story shortly after that. I'm really moving on this story now and I'm happy with it again. I'm also thrilled that I'm done with **_Switched_**. It was a fun story but took a lot out of me. Please review, as always, it really inspires me when I get feedback.

Thanks and enjoy!

* * *

Harry Apparated to the Ministry of Magic, and after cajoling the guard, got permission to proceed to the Minister's office where Jo was waiting.

"Hello, Penelope," Harry said, entering.

"Good morning, Harry. My sister says you'll both be coming to the party tonight, with dates?" Despite the wording, it was definitely a question and not a statement.

"That's right. We've both got dates for tonight and the dates aren't each other," Harry fibbed. He'd have to Owl Colin as soon as he could get away. He'd forgotten to do it before leaving the house.

"I'm glad to hear it. One of our guests tonight is on staff for the _Prophet_. Hopefully everything should get cleared up and we can avoid any more publicity messes. I'm sure publicity problems are the last thing you want, Harry."

"Problems or not, _publicity_ is the last thing I want," he corrected.

There was a moment of awkward silence. Jo looked about ready to leave and Harry felt like going right along with her.

Penelope broke the silence. "Harry, Josephine said there was something you wanted to talk about?"

Harry shot Jo a look. Jo hadn't just come in and said it already? So much for trying to smooth things over between them. If Jo would have made the suggestion it might have helped. "We were thinking, and we know you haven't been in your new house very long. We were wondering if there was anything that you'd like us to do today for you so that it'd be ready tonight. I just refurnished the attic at the Burrow, and Josephine and I repainted the walls in her room."

"You'd do that for us? Really? I know how well you get along with Percy."

"Penelope, you're part of the Weasley family now. The Weasley family is my family," Harry said firmly. "Even Percy is a Weasley, whether he likes it or not."

"This is really great of you to offer to do this for us," she said, smiling at them and feeling very relieved.

"We figure it's the least we could do. Right, Josephine?"

Jo gave a grim nod.

"If you'll sit for just a moment, I can make up a list for you. I really do appreciate this." Penelope bent her head and wrote out the list as best she could remember. "Keep a tab of expenses and Percy and I will reimburse you. Our Network address is The Villa. You can use the fire here in my office."

Less than fifteen minutes after they had arrived in Penelope's office, Harry and Jo found themselves at Percy and Penny's home.

"I still think we shouldn't have come," Jo said from the floor as she dusted herself off.

"Do you want me to help you up?"

"No, the floor is really quite comfortable," she said sarcastically, reaching out a hand.

"Well, if you're going to take that attitude…" Harry started, pretending to turn away.

"Harry!" she whined.

Harry completed his circle and hoisted her up by her armpits. "Let's go see what we have to work with." They started their self-guided tour by going outside.

The house was certainly lovely. They had painted the outside a sort of terracotta color, finishing the trim and shutters out in white. The roof looked to be in fairly good shape thanks to whatever they'd done to it. The biggest problem was the garden, or rather, the lack thereof a garden. Harry questioned Jo on this.

"Well, there were plants here when they got a hold of the house, but they were pretty much dead. Trees and bushes and such mostly. They never quite got around to replacing them."

Harry flicked his wand, summoning parchment and a pencil to him. He started making notes. 1) Floo to Neville and ask for plant-related assistance.

"You'd better add on talking to that Colin buddy of yours if you haven't already," Jo remarked.

Harry proceeded to add item number two to his list. "Let's move inside."

They entered and were standing in a half-decent looking hallway. Over all, it wasn't a bad hallway. It was wide enough, and fairly uncluttered except for the table closest to the door and the mantle over the fireplace. The only lighting came from a few flickering candles. The color on the walls didn't help matters. It was such a dark blue that it looked to be almost black. The floor was a dark wood that looked as though it could use a new coat of stain or finish. There were very few lights along the way. He spotted a bucket and hoped it was a new, fresher color for the hallway walls. He knelt down to open it and grimaced. It matched what was already on the walls and was half-empty. They'd already redecorated this hallway.

"Something the matter, Harry?"

"Is your sister colorblind?"

"Not that I know of."

"What about Percy?"

"Don't think so."

"Look around. Doesn't it feel like the walls are closing in on you?" he asked. He shuddered. This was not a happy hallway.

"A little."

"I like crazy colors as much as the next person, but this'll set all her guests in a bad mood." Harry marked down his third note. 3) Repaint entrance hallway in a bright neutral. Thinking, he added a fourth note before stuffing the parchment and pencil in his pocket. 4) Stain entrance hall floor with something fresh. "Which way to the sitting room?"

"Left," Jo said wearily.

The sitting room was better off than the hallway. It was spacious and airy, with a high ceiling, and a lighter blue on the walls. The area rug over the floor was nice as well. The furniture however looked a little worn.

"Blue again?" he asked.

"It's Raven-pride. What else did you expect?" Jo asked, a touch of smugness in her voice.

"Maybe I was just hoping that a little bit of Gryffindor might shine through somewhere."

"Oh, it does. They settled color choices on rooms they redid like proper adults. They flipped Knuts for them. Penny won in the hall and here, Percy won in the dining room."

Harry rolled his eyes. "That is just so mature. Okay, the paint in here is good, and the color isn't bad, but I want to reupholster the furniture if we can." He added his fifth note to his list.

"How much time do you think we have? We've got _hours_, not days or weeks," Jo

reminded him.

"Well, we could always put the new fabric over the old fabric without removing it first."

"Still, you don't mean to do this all by hand do you?" Jo asked in disbelief.

Harry shrugged. "Maybe."

"We don't have the time to do it all by ourselves. We need a little magic. I am a witch. I have a wand. I am not afraid to use it."

"We'll see." They moved on to examine the dining room—which had been painted a very bright red—and Harry made a few more notes. It seemed that these were the only areas they'd be able to get to today. That was alright; these were probably the only rooms the guests would see. They sat down on the hardback dining room chairs.

"So what next, boss-man?"

"We need paint, fabric, supplies, and I've still got letters to write," Harry said, tired just thinking about how much work was ahead of them.

"I'll conjure supplies and paint, you take care of those letters _now_," Jo said forcibly, not sure whether she was hoping Colin would be able to come through for them or not.

They split up to accomplish their tasks. Harry wrote his letter to Colin and Apparated back to his attic to send it off with Hedwig. He sent another letter to Missy about the Floo address that the dinner party was at. From there, he went to Neville's greenhouse. He was glad to find Neville there standing there in front of a large purple plant, dusting the dirt off his hands with a satisfied smile.

Neville looked over at Harry as the door opened, a bit of surprise on his face. "Harry, what can I do for you? I was just about to close up for today."

"Are you going somewhere then?" Harry asked in surprise. It was much too early for Neville to be closing shop; it wasn't even lunch yet.

"I just came in today to do a little maintenance on the plants. I decided to take a holiday, but the plants never take one."

"Oh." He hadn't thought about that before.

"What'd you come to see me about?" Neville asked.

"Josephine and I are putting some finishing touches on her sister's house; they're having their first big dinner party tonight. I was wondering about getting some plants for the front yard."

"What exactly are you looking for? This is mostly a medical nursery but I do spend some time here on decorative plants."

"Whatever you think will look good; I trust your judgment. The Floo address is The Villa and the bill gets sent to the Minister of Magic. I really appreciate this, Neville. After that article…we want to try and help Penelope make a good impression."

"Sure, anytime, Harry."

Harry looked around, trying to remember if there was anything else that needed saying. There didn't seem to be, so he waved goodbye and exited via the fireplace.

* * *

Two hours before the dinner party was about to start, Neville, Jo, and Harry all leaned against one of the walls, surveying their work. The place probably hadn't looked that good since it was new.

The walls gleamed with fresh paint (which had been enchanted to dry quickly), some of the unsightly furniture had been reupholstered, some of it had just had slip covers put on. A few things had been moved around or added to give the place an extra kick. Neville had expertly chosen which bushes, shrubs, and flowers belonged in front of the house and had transplanted them with care.

Jo laughed. "I can't believe we pulled it off."

"Neither can I," Harry admitted. "Thanks for coming out here and spending your day off helping us, Neville."

"It was fine. In fact, this was kind of fun."

"You know, you could come to the dinner party tonight. I'm sure Penny wouldn't mind another person."

Neville smiled but shook his head. "Thanks for the offer. I'll see you how you two make out at this one first."

"Alright, but the offer is open." Jo, sick of standing, sat down against the wall. She looked up at the boys. "Harry, did the letter from Colin ever come back?"

"Oh yeah. I forgot." Harry pulled out a paint splotched enveloped.

"What's it say?"

"I haven't opened it yet," Harry said, rolling his eyes. He pulled the paper out and read it. "Thanks for the invitation. I should be able to make it, but I might be a little late. I'm going to have to Apperate to the Leaky Cauldron and Floo from there. See you tonight. Colin."

"Well, at least now I know I've got a date. It ought to make Penny happy," Jo said. "Is he good looking at least?"

Harry made a face. "I don't know. How am I supposed to answer that?"

Jo laughed and Neville rolled his head, cracking his neck. She stretched her arms, asking, "I'm starved. We haven't eaten since breakfast. Is anybody else hungry?"

Both boys answered in the affirmative, but Harry pointed out, "Josephine, we're supposed to be here at a _dinner_ party in two hours. We'll eat then."

"Just a snack? A slice of pizza? Two hours is a long way away and breakfast was," she paused, counting hours off on her fingers. "Nine hours ago."

Harry was going to insist that they didn't need to eat, but then his stomach rumbled and the words died on his lips. "Alright, Josephine. Neville, are you hungry?"

"Come to think of it, yeah, I am."

Less than fifteen minutes later they were all seated around a small, round table, just outside of Hogsmeade, eating pizza.

The pizza was hot and Harry burned his mouth, knocking most of his cheese off of the slice he was eating. Jo snorted and laughed at him.

When Neville started laughing too, Harry turned on him and tried to recover his pizza and what was left of his dignity. "So, Neville, who's this girl you've been seeing? Josephine seems to think it's serious."

Neville's cheeks turned pink. "Well, it _is_ serious. I really like her and care about her a lot. Trust me, this isn't exactly a relationship I went into lightly. There was a lot I had to think about when I did it."

"Well, who is it?" nosed Jo.

"As if I'd tell the two of you? Forget it. You know what they say, 'If you really like the person you're dating, then _don't_ _ever_ introduce them to you family.'" He promptly had to duck a flying pepperoni. True he didn't know Jo that well, but Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley all qualified as family to him; they were the only family he had left that could still communicate with other people. Neville had a feeling that Jo certainly wouldn't be dropping out of the picture anytime soon.

Harry snickered. "Served you right, Nev."

Neville looked down at his watch. "You guys are due at that party in like an hour. You'd better get going and get ready."

He sighed. "I suppose we have to. Josephine, is this a dress robes occasion or are Muggle clothes alright?"

"Most of those stuffy, snotty Ministry officials will be in their official Ministry robes or their nicest dress robes. Me? I'm contemplating sweat pants."

"I hate dressing up as much as the next person, but _you're _the one who said we should do this to help make up to your sister with the bad publicity we caused," Harry warned.

"Oh, alright. I'll wear a dress. Magic is wonderful, but I'd prefer blue-jeans to robes any day," she said. "They're so layered, and all the snaps and things on some of them are just way too complicated. I really wish I could just stick to the clothes I grew up in."

Harry remained undecided as to whether to go in robes or slacks. They split the bill and Disapperated.

* * *

At ten to seven, Harry was standing in the Weasleys' kitchen, waiting for Josephine to finish getting ready. He'd opted for black slacks and a pristinely white button-down shirt. He had a feeling that it was _not_ a good idea and that only trouble could come of wearing white shirts to dinner, but it was too late to change his mind. Besides, with his black and white leather shoes he looked rather classy.

"JOSEPHINE ADELAIDE CLEARWATER! WE'RE GOING TO BE LATE FOR DINNER!" he yelled up the stairs.

"I'll be down in a minute! Shut-up!" Jo called, half serious, half playful.

Sixty-six seconds later, Josephine came down the stairs. Just before she actually came within eyesight, she said threateningly, "Don't you dare laugh at me, Harry Potter."

"I won't, just get down here already."

Jo entered the kitchen. "Why? Don't you want to be 'fashionably late'?"

"The only problem with that is that if everybody is 'fashionably late' then it isn't fashion, it's just called tardiness."

Harry looked at Jo. It turned out that she cleaned up pretty nicely. As a matter of fact, the whole outfit surprised him; he wasn't aware that she owned anything other than a couple of sets of necessary robes and the jeans and overalls she tended to live in.

The dress had a high waistline (gathered below her chest) with a thin black ribbon tied across it. The top half was black with little straps. The bottom half was white, and very loose, sort of flaring out. It reached mid-calf. The built in slip on the bottom half let a little bit of black lace show. Her shoes were black, with short, sensible heels. Her hair was in a single braid that contrasted rather badly with the dressiness of the outfit.

By no means did the dress make her any thinner; it was still apparent that her frame had some "extra baggage" as the saying went, but it was definitely a good look for her.

Harry nodded in approval. "You look great," he said, really meaning it.

Jo blushed a little bit and laughed, looking him over. "We look like we're all matched up in these outfits. Honestly, I could barely get this dress zipped up. I was never exactly thin, but I did put on a little weight since the last time I wore it." She twirled around in the dress twice. It really did suit her.

The mirror decided to wake up and give them a few words. "You two look so darling together, dearies." It promptly went back to sleep. The old mirror didn't talk much these days. Back when he was at Hogwarts, the Weasley's mirror would tell him nearly every morning to comb his hair. He hadn't heard those words once since he moved in.

"Are we Flooing or Apparating?" Harry asked.

"Floo? Are you kidding? And mess up all this hard work? Everybody else can floo, _I'm_ Apparating." She disappeared with a crack.

Harry followed suit.

They arrived in the little entrance room where the front door and the fireplace both were. Percy was there, ushering two very important looking people to the sitting room.

"Hey, Perce," Harry said, as the officials disappeared.

Percy stiffened and turned around. "Oh, it's you. For a moment there I thought you were Fred or George. They know that I am _very_ irritated by that nickname." The last sentence and his tone made his meaning very clear.

"Sorry, Percy," Harry corrected.

"Well, I accept your apology. It's very good to see you both here. Penny was afraid you wouldn't show up, or would send owls claiming to be sick."

Jo shot Harry a look and he felt a little sheepish. For that reason alone, it was probably a good idea that he hadn't cancelled coming.

"Do you have dates arriving, or are you here together?"

Jo corrected him. "We have _friends_ arriving. Where's Penny?"

"Entertaining in the sitting room. Thank you both so much for your work here today. It has been really appreciated. Although, I must say I prefer the original color of the dining room."

"Lighten up. All we did was tone it down. That was a _very_ loud red you had in there," Jo pointed out. "And a very depressing dark blue in here and the hallway. We couldn't figure out your logic at all."

Percy looked a little miffed, but put his host-smile back on. "If you'll continue on toward the sitting room? I'll let your dates know where you are." He straightened out his robes.

"Colin might not get here until a little later," Jo said over her shoulder.

Jo and Harry entered the sitting room discovered half a dozen or so people sitting around on various articles of furniture. A pretty girl stood up and approached Harry. She was several years younger than the youngest other person in the room.

"Harry Potter? Wow, I'm Missy, your date," she said in an excited whisper (she didn't want anybody to know that she'd never actually met him before). She noticed Jo. "Who's this? I thought you didn't have any family?" in a regular voice.

Before Harry could explain or Jo could come up with a witty comeback, Penny approached them. "Oh, this is my sister Josephine." She smiled at Harry, and then at Missy, and then at Harry again. "Excuse us…" She pulled Josephine away and Harry caught the whispered conversation between sisters.

"Where's _your_ date?"

"He's arriving later," Jo answered evasively.

"And your clothes? The outfit looks charming, but you should have come in _robes_. Look at everyone else."

"Everyone isn't here yet. Besides, look at Harry. _He's_ wearing pants."

"What about that girl? She came in here claiming to be Harry's date and she acts as though she's never met him before."

"Harry and I were both set up for blind dates," Jo said, rolling her eyes. "We should have just owled that we were sick and saved ourselves all this trouble." She started walking away.

"Thanks for all your hard work today," Penelope added with a smile as she turned to greet someone who had just entered the room.

Harry snapped himself away from the conversation as Missy pinched him in the arm. "Were you listening to me?"

"I'm sorry, what were you saying?" Harry said, trying to sound polite. He motioned for her to take a seat. He glanced over at Jo, speaking heatedly with a reporter she recognized.

Missy tried to keep her tone patient. "I was asking what you're doing with yourself these days. _Everyone _has heard about your retirement from Quidditch. I think it was one of the saddest days to ever hit the world of sports."

"Not much of anything really. A little work here and there, finding peace of mind." This was going to be a _long _night. Maybe he would come down with a horrible stomach flu before dinner started. He'd pay fifty galleons if he could get his hand on some Skiving Snackboxes within the next ten minutes.

Missy started to talk about some of the other great heroes of Quidditch who had gone into retirement over the last fifty years. Apparently she was a somewhat avid fan.

She wasn't too bad, but Harry dreaded facing any of the Ministry officials or reporters present. He upped his bid for Snackboxes. He'd pay a hundred galleons for one if someone could get one to him in the next five minutes before they had to enter the dining room.


	24. Marinara Mess

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****Chapter 24—Marinara Mess****

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**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing except Josephine Clearwater. And Penny and Percy's house. Come to think of it I own a couple other characters too, but none worth mentioning. So I won't.

**Author's Note:** I know it's been a while, but I'm really sorry. I had the chapter ¾ done and couldn't think of how to finish it off. Well, it's finished now. Not much explanation needed here for this chapter. Self-explanatory really. One more thing: I'm giving you a little teaser for the next chapter. It's at the bottom of this one.

* * *

It wasn't long before the Minister, her husband, and their guests were all (except one) seated at the long table in the dining room. Percy and Penny were each seated at one end—as dictated by proper table etiquette with the man at one end and the woman at the other—but Harry and Josephine thought it would have made much more sense for them to sit together so they could talk. In Harry's mind a table that fit this many people simply didn't belong in a house. There were ten seats on each side and a seat on each end. Name cards had been set up beforehand; Jo had been set next to her brother-in-law (with a card reading _Guest_ in the seat next to hers) and Harry's place was reserved on Penelope's right (a _Guest_ card accompanied the next to his). Jo's end of the table comprised mainly of Ministry officials and a low-level reporter. Harry's end of the table however had one of the highest paid journalists in the business, and several members of the upper ranks of the Ministry.

Jo entered the room well ahead of most of the other people and preformed a switching spell. Her brother-in-law and her sister were crazy if they thought she'd actually sit there. She smiled at Penelope as she took her new seat across from Harry next to her sister.

Penelope frowned. She'd been sure she had put the Head of the Auror Department in that seat.

Harry raised an eyebrow at Jo. He was fairly certain that he'd seen her name at the other end of the table when he'd walked in.

She smiled innocently and turned her name card around so he could read her name, printed clearly across it.

Missy whispered to Harry. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," he said. Where were Fred and George the only time you actually _wanted_ them around?

Soon the dinner was underway, being served by two house-elves, one of which looked rather elderly. Harry resolved to ask Percy and Penelope about them later; he knew Hermione would never approve. The Weasley family didn't have any house-elves, and the Clearwater family, as Muggle-borns, wouldn't have any either. He wondered if maybe these were on loan from someone.

They made it through the salad course and Colin still hadn't arrived. So far things were proceeding fine. Harry and Josephine kept up a mild conversation with occasional interjections by Missy and a rather disgruntled Penelope. The man in the seat next to the empty one beside Jo, was mostly quiet, occasionally talking to his other neighbors. Sometimes however, Harry got the feeling he was listening very carefully to their conversation. The best part of the evening so far was that Harry had yet to spill anything on his shirt.

Chicken and wild rice soup had just arrived when Colin sat down to join them, escorted in by the elderly house-elf.

He saw the only empty seat at the table and took it. "I beg your pardon, Minister, I am so sorry I'm late."

Harry greeted him and noticed that he was still in his police uniform.

Colin seemed to have noticed this too and looked around. He felt rather alone; it seemed everyone else but Harry and Josephine were wearing robes.  
The others at the table glanced at him, wondering what he was doing here; it looked like a Muggle had just joined their dinner party.

Jo whispered to him and stuck out her hand, "Nice to meet you. I'm Josephine."

"Likewise. I'm Colin." He looked around the table and felt nervous again.

"Don't worry about it, Harry and I came in Muggle clothes as well," Jo said cheerfully. Penelope felt it was her duty to answer for the odd looks that the others at the table were giving Colin. "This is…"

"I can introduce myself, thanks," Colin said quietly, standing up. "My name's Colin Creevy. I graduated from Hogwarts last year and, thanks to Headmaster Dumbledore, I'm working in the Muggle world as a police officer; a police officer is similar to an Auror, or a magical law enforcement officer. It's very nice to see you all here tonight," he said. He'd been strong and confident up until that last awkward sentence. He started to sit down.

The quiet man in the chair next to his spoke. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"Well, any law enforcement job has its ri—" Colin started.

"I mean for the rest of us. The more of there are mixing with Muggles, the more likely someone is to let something slip and let the whole bl—whole world know about us," he said icily.

"In all honesty, I don't think it is," Colin said candidly. "In fact, I think it's a good thing. A lot of wizards and witches don't understand Muggles at all. That's why ourworld was at war for a decade and why we were at war again a not so many years ago. If it weren't for Muggle-borns and half-bloods, wizards and witches would have died out centuries ago or at the very least become very…strange from too much inbreeding. Having a few links between the two worlds isn't just a good thing, it's a necessary thing."

"What about the risk?" someone at the far end of the table asked.

"If you're careful and responsible then you aren't facing much of a risk. My robes, potions ingredients, moving pictures, and just about anything else pertaining to magic are locked up at home. No one who visits my flat comes in and sees spell books or cauldrons or pointy hats lying around. I seldom Apparate, and when I do I'm careful about it. I'm not connected to the network. If you're cautious the risk is minimal."

"Minimal risk is still a risk," someone from the middle of the table interjected.

Colin and Harry looked at each other. "May I?" asked Harry.

Colin gave a nod of approval.

"To start with, a life without risks is no life at all. Without variation, risks, and change, we're all just mindless drones doing the same thing day after day. And I really do mean mindless; if we don't open ourselves out to the other world that's out there, we can never start to truly live. Secondly, to have no risk of exposure we would have to alienate every single wizard and witch from every single Muggle. If that's the case, how do you propose Hogwarts students should get to King's Cross? Can you imagine 1000 students doing slide along Aparation in a single morning? Or maybe King's Cross is too close to the Muggle world and needs to be avoided all together. What about the Leakey Cauldron? Should parents of Muggle-borns not be allowed in? Think about this in all seriousness. Wizards and Muggles will _always_ be connected by Muggle-borns. You can't let talented wizards and witches go untrained, but you can't take an eleven year old away without their parents knowing. By age eleven the parents know something strange is going on, even if they haven't completely figured it out yet." He was thinking of Hermione; he knew her parents had thought they might be going crazy when they couldn't explain the strange happenings around their young daughter. "How many of us wouldn't be standing here today if Muggles or Muggle-borns hadn't married a wizard of pure or half blood? I wouldn't be standing here." He sat down. He had intended on passing the night with as little notice as possible, but it looked as though that wasn't going to happen now. Why did he have to go and open his big mouth?

Silence met this proclamation.

Jo looked around, rather satisfied that Harry had managed to shut up the boring officials and nosey reporters. She looked for a way to break the silence and picked up her spoon, starting to eat her soup, a slurp breaking the silence. "Ah. You'd all best eat this before it gets cold," she said, addressing the table as a whole.

A few comments popped up about her lack of manners, but at least it got people speaking again and ended the silence.

The journalist was patient. He remained for the most part removed from conversation and just listened.

Harry tried to ignore him. "Were you in any clubs at school, Missy?"

"A few, here and there. QICTNOT was one I was especially fond of." She laughed.

"Qictnot?" he asked.

Colin laughed. "I remember QICTNOT."

"What's that?" Jo asked.

"QICTNOT stood for Quidditch Is Cool, Though Not Our Thing. It was for people who liked Quidditch but couldn't play very well. We weren't a very well known club; mostly people who knew they wouldn't make it onto their house team but showed up to support games every time."

Halfway through the main course, spaghetti and meatballs (this was certainly turning out to be a random assortment), Harry and Colin were discussing Muggle-Wizard interaction when Missy leaned in to join the conversation and knocked over a serving bowl of marinara sauce.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Harry. Here, let me help. Oh, sorry!" Missy tried to help him clean the sauce up, but it only seemed to make it worse.

"Relax. I've got it," he said, trying to calm her down. "Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. Inhale. Exhale. Smile. Have you got it?" Harry asked.

Missy didn't completely calm down.

Harry finally took out his wand and cleaned up the stain, returning his shirt to its former cleanliness. "Josephine, will you take her to the bathroom and clean sauce off of her arm, maybe calm her down a little bit?" Harry whispered across the table.

Josephine rolled her eyes, but got up and led Missy out of the room anyway.

Harry looked down the table at the curious looks he was being given. He gave a cheery wave and resumed his conversation with Colin and Penelope. He hoped that he'd be able to get around to talking about Hermione's center for the werewolves. He wondered how anyone could know Remus Lupin and not want to help. He supposed Fenrir Greyback was considerably responsible for that.

Jo and Missy came back, resettling into their seats just as Harry was about to broach the topic. He turned to Missy first. "Are you alright now?"

"Yes, I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me. Ordinarily I'm not such a klutz," she said blushing a little.

"Trust me, I know people who can't walk into a room without breaking something," Harry said, patting her on the shoulder. He was thinking of Tonks of course. He turned his attention back to Penelope and Colin.

"Really, better lines of communication would help. I'd almost recommend a change of Hogwarts curriculum. Possibly taking out a year of History of Magic in favor of a mandatory Muggle Studies class really could help," Colin said seriously.

"I don't disagree with you, but it's not easy to change things over there," Penelope said evasively.

"If you write a letter to Dumbledore it could happen. Things are only hard to change there _if_ he doesn't want them changed. Something like this he'd definitely approve of," Harry said. "Speaking of change, is there any word on the progress of the funds for the werewolf safe house?"

"None as of yet, but we're working on it. It's not easy to change people's minds about things all at once," Penelope said, evasive again. She was truly picking up the way of politicians by not committing to anything she said.

"The money would help a lot," insisted Jo.

"A place like the one Hermione has in mind could save others from becoming lycanthropes and help those who already are feel better about themselves. Not only that, but other wizards would feel better knowing that werewolves were away on the full moon and couldn't hurt their children even on accident. They aren't all like Greyback, you know," Harry said quietly. Greyback had been killed in the "last battle" as it were. In Harry's mind there never really was a "last battle." There was the fight where Voldemort was finally completely destroyed, but the fight with evil was never-ending. The only thing that made that fight different from any other was that it was the last one Harry ever wanted to be in.

"You just don't want to do anything that'll rock the boat as far as your office goes," Jo said. "I thought you were better than that."

Harry shot her a look and kicked her under the table twice.

"I'm just trying to take things cautiously. I can't do any good if I can't stay in office long enough to help anybody," Penelope said.

"You can't do any good by being in office and doing nothing either," shot back Jo.

Harry kicked her again.

Missy looked at Harry and then over at Jo. She looked back at Harry and asked quietly, "Is everything alright?"

"Just fine," Harry said, smiling. His foot was waiting in case Jo had any more smart comments dying to escape from her mouth.

Colin hadn't heard anything about Hermione's plan before and was intrigued. "What exactly is this place?"

"Hermione Granger, well, Weasley now, wants to build a home for werewolves," explained Penelope.

Harry shot her a dagger look. "Hermione doesn't just want to build a home for them. She wants to build a center where werewolves can live together. She also proposes a bill that says if a werewolf lives there, then he can't be denied a job or any other rights based on his or her condition. During the full moon all the werewolves will be locked up separately, hopefully under the wolfsbane potion. You can understand the immense amount of trouble with this. First of all, nobody knows just how many werewolves are out there. Even if a program like this gets opened, they'll be suspicious of joining because they'll think the Ministry is just out to get them."

"I wonder why," muttered Jo sarcastically.

Harry automatically gave her a kick, and continued. "Second is the financial issue. It'll take a lot of money to build and open the place, and more to keep it running. Mediwitches and wolfsbane potions are expensive, not to mention food. In all likelihood no one entering this place will be coming in with money. We've got a few werewolves gathered together right now and we're convincing them to stay that way until we manage to find someplace for them, but I think they're losing hope fast."

"You're forgetting the third part, Harry. It's not just a matter of money and image. We also need a place to put this center. We can't just put it down in the middle of London," Penelope said evenly.

"No, but there are places where we could build it. We don't even need a new building. An old warehouse or factory would work fine once some adjustments get made," Harry said.

"What's that?" asked Madam Bones, sitting a few seats down from Harry.

Harry could have grinned. Madam Bones was a sensible witch; she would listen to reason with a fairly open mind. At least, he hoped so. "Hermione Granger-Weasley is in the process of creating a sort of halfway home for lycanthropes. Her plan is sound, but she's still in need of funding and a location."

"What exactly would be the nature of this home?" she asked, giving no indication of her feelings toward it yet. She was willing to listen though.

"Right now lycanthropes aren't allowed to even hold down most sorts of jobs. I only even know of one who was able to get an education at Hogwarts and pass his Apparation test after he was afflicted. Hermione wants to set this house up for werewolves to all live in together. During the full moon they'd be locked up in their individual rooms under the influence of wolfsbane potion. Part of her hopes in this plan are to change the law so that any werewolf in the program can't be denied a job based on his condition."

"That's all very well and good except for two things. There's the problem of money, which you mentioned. It will be very difficult to convince wizards and witches that they should pay a tax that would support werewolves without offering back any benefit to themselves. The second is education. While the law may prevent werewolves from holding down jobs, you must also take into consideration that without the education they were denied when they were young, a majority of them are probably unable to perform the simplest of necessary spells they would need in the workplace," Madam Bones answered.

"But it's not because of a lack of talent. It's a lack of training. I'm sure Hermione has thought of that as well and plans on teaching them magic herself in all likelihood, or possibly searching for an outside teacher. There _is_ a benefit for non-werewolves. If all the werewolves are in the center and under the wolfsbane potion, more children won't get bit, even on accident. If there are no more new werewolves being created, maybe in a couple of centuries we can look forward to there not being any werewolves. Greyback was a monster, plain and simple. He was angry and wanted to get back at everyone else, so he did. How many of his victims are out there though? What if they accidentally bit someone?" Harry shuddered. "What if it happened to your niece?"

Madam Bones had paled at the mention of Susan. "I do see your point, Harry. The Minister and I shall discuss this at great lengths I am sure. Correct, Penelope?"

The Minister of Magic nodded. "Of course."

Harry had to try very hard to keep from grinning. It wasn't exactly a binding contract but it would do for now. He'd gotten the word out there. Amelia Bones was definitely one of the older members at the Ministry whom Penelope trusted and discussed things with; she was a witch with a good brain on her shoulders.

A few minutes later, Penelope suggested that the party move into the sitting room for coffee and desert.

Five minutes into desert, Harry was beginning to wish they'd never left the table.

Missy smiled falsely at him but her tone was nothing short of irate. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"What were you doing in there?"

"Talking."

"I mean with the Minister's sister," she clarified.

"I was talking to her too. We're good friends," Harry said, trying to see what she was getting at.

"You two were playing footsies under the table!" she hissed.

"No, we weren't. I kicked her to make her shut up."

She looked as though she didn't believe him.

"Honestly, you can't believe that I would sit there at a semi-official government dinner and play footsies with the Minister's sister while sitting right next to her. You must think I'm an idiot or something." Harry said.

He was pulled away from his "discussion" with Missy by a man with brown hair slicked back off of his face.

"Harry Potter? I'd like to have a word with you, if you wouldn't mind."

Harry rather _did_ mind, especially as the man was wearing a nametag that said he was from the _Hourglass Times_—all reporters present except Jo were wearing press badges with their papers name included—and he'd forcibly pulled him away and interrupted a conversation. However, considering just who the conversation was with and what it was about, he decided not to protest too much. "What about?"

"Ah, good man. Ready to talk. I like that." With his hand still on Harry's shoulder, he steered him to another corner of the room.

Harry grabbed a cup of coffee off of a tray that the elderly house-elf was bringing through. He had a feeling he might need it.

"That Colin. He's an interesting fellow, no?" The man seemed to favor short, quick sentences.

"Interesting how?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Oh, that he would come to an all wizard affair in his work clothes. Or that he'd come in Muggle clothes at all. What do you think of that?"

"He was busy and didn't have time to change. It's not as though he's wearing anything grimy or torn; he's in a law enforcement uniform. I'm here in Muggle clothes myself."

"And his speech on Muggle-Wizard relations? You seemed keen on that topic."

"As a half-blood why wouldn't I be? If Muggle-borns weren't allowed at Hogwarts, my parents wouldn't have met and I wouldn't have been born." He made no secret of his bloodlines.

"And what's this about the werewolf center? Something you're not telling the rest of the world, Potter?"

"What do you mean? I'm not a werewolf if that's what you're asking. I think they should have the same rights as any other wizard and I am willing to help them get them what they deserve."

"Some would say they deserve to be punished or put out of their misery," the man said, egging him on.

Harry's voice got low and dangerous. "Well, I _don't_. A werewolf is a person 365 days a year. For a few hours once a month, he becomes something else. He has no control over this and little control over his actions when this happens. That's why the center is important. The only werewolf I've ever heard of who bit people intentionally, who hung around populated areas on the full moon and sought out children, was Greyback. _He_ was a monster 365 days a year. He's dead now. Anyone bit by a werewolf isn't a predator; he's a victim. If you're not interested in any more commentary, I'll be on my way. I've got somebody to talk to." Harry turned to go, his eyes searching for Jo. He needed somebody to give him a break from this guy; what'd the man think he was a magic 8 ball or something?

The journalist grinned and could have hugged himself. Instead, he grabbed Harry's arm. "Actually, that is the main reason I wanted to talk to you."

"What's the main reason you wanted to talk to me?" Harry said, his fight or flight instinct readying itself.

"Well, you arrived with the Minister's sister, both of you dressed in matching Muggle clothing, you talked with her almost the entire evening, and there's a very pretty girl standing over there who was claiming to be your date before you showed up." He folded his arms and let out a long breath. That had been an exhausting sentence, far too long. "What have you got to say about _that_?"

Harry considered very carefully. At last he made his decision. _Silencio!_ He thought silently, concentrating hard and hoping it'd work even though he wasn't pointing his wand at him.  
The man's mouth started to move and no sound came out.

Harry smiled politely. "Have a good evening." He said his goodbyes to Penny and Percy, thanking them for inviting him, and told Missy that he was leaving and that it had been nice to meet her. He started his exit and got as far as the hallway before Jo caught up to him.

"Leaving?"

"Yeah. You can stay if you want though. I'm sick of those creeps."

Jo let out a sigh of relief. "Thank, Merlin. I've been dying to go for ages, but Penny would never forgive me if I was the first one to leave."

"Did you at least say goodbye to Colin?"

"Oh yeah. We got along great. Thanked him for a nice evening and all that. He's talking to Amelia about Muggle-Wizard relations and the pros and cons of things."

"I didn't eat any of those snozzberry tarts; they didn't look so great. You want to head over to Fortescue's? They're still open."

"Sounds great." The two of them went outside, and, with twin bangs of imploding air, they Disapperated, leaving their dates behind to enjoy the party if they wanted.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Okay, how was it? Oh right I promised you a little bit about the next chapter, right? Okay, the title is _The Bouncing Ferret Reconvened_.

And your teaser is—

_Hermione looked around the group assembled at the private meeting room of the Bouncing Ferret. "I'm the only girl here," she said._

_Ron smirked at her. "Feel privileged," he quoted._

Alright, not a great teaser. But the title was worth it, right? Pwease?


	25. Bouncing Ferret Reconvened

**Chapter 25—Bouncing Ferret Reconvened**

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**Disclaimer:** I own only Josephine Clearwater and the Bouncing Ferret. All else belongs to J. K. Rowling.

**Author's Note:** Short chapter and I'm not very happy about it. I hadn't realized how long I went without updating this story! I'm so sorry! Life's been hectic and I write as the ideas pop into my brain: good news, I have started on the next chapter. Bad news, you don't get too much info in this chapter because it's one of those surprise things.

**

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** Hermione looked around the group assembled at the private meeting room of the Bouncing Ferret. "I'm the only girl here," she said.

Ron smirked at her. "Feel privileged," he quoted.

Neville decided to be the logical one. "Look, Hermione, you're the only one of Harry's female friends who's completely off limits; you're married. We couldn't have Josephine or Luna here."

Ron glared at him. "Ginny's off limits too. She's my sister. Harry can't date her."

"Yes, Ron, Ginny's off limits too, because she's your sister, but if she came to our meeting, information might leak out to Josephine or Harry; after all, they _are_ all living under the same roof," Hermione said, smoothing down Ron's hair in a soothing fashion.

"Besides, I think she was busy tonight. Something about a late Quidditch practice," Neville said.

Hermione snorted, but made no comment. She didn't know where Ginny would be, but judging by Wednesday night, she wasn't so sure that Ginny was at practice.

Ron coughed loudly. "Alright, let's just get down to business."

"What exactly _is_ our business again?" asked Seamus.

Ron rolled his eyes at him as though the answer was obvious.

Neville tried to stifle his laughter at the look on Ron's face. "We're trying to figure out exactly what's going on with Harry and the women in his life. We think somebody has got to be a potential romantic interest; possibly more than potential. We're just a little divided as to who it is. Speculations range as either: Luna, Josephine, or possibly that Muggle he went out with, I think her name was…Emma?"

"No, I think it was Emily," corrected Hermione.

"Whatever," Ron said impatiently. "I don't think anybody still thinks it's her. Things didn't seem so great there. So it's either Luna or Josephine."

"Or maybe Daphne," added Hermione.

Everyone turned to look at her.

"Don't look at me like that. I think it's an honest possibility. I've seen them together on nights when Harry has been here. They get along really well," Hermione said, a hint of defense in her voice.

"I don't know. I don't think they spend enough time together to be considered an option," Ron said, scratching his beardless chin.

"Still a possibility though," Neville said. "He doesn't spend a lot of time with Daphne, so she's more easily considered as an option than Luna or Josephine because he already sees them as very close friends. When you get to that stage it gets hard to see a person as anything else."

"Okay, so she's a possibility. What about Luna? I think he discusses serious things with her more than the other two. That would move her up a few notches on the point scale. Josephine is like a best friend to him," Ron said, a little hurt in his voice on the last sentence.

"He's not dating Luna," Seamus said.

"How do you know?"

"Because Luna and I, er," he started blushing, "started seeing each other a few days ago. She said nothing's been going on between the two of them."

"Which leaves it to Josephine and Daphne," Neville concluded.

"I'm still lost. Are we trying to figure out who he _is_ dating, or who he _should_ date?" asked Seamus.

"Either way; it's half a dozen of one and six of the other."

"Does anybody think they've got confirmed information that he's actually going out with anyone?"

"Well, there was that one Muggle."

"But he wasn't interested in her."

"Any other dates recently?"

The "no" was clear in the way that absolutely nobody answered.

"Okay, so blank slate. We can work with that," Ron said. He started ticking off names on his fingers. "Josephine, Daphne…anybody else?"

"I don't think he talks to other people," Hermione said, honestly. "There's Luna, Ginny, and I, but we've all already been ruled out. That leaves Daphne and Josephine."

"So now we know the who, but not the how," Neville said.

"What?" asked Ron, thoroughly confused. Why couldn't they just pick a girl and lock Harry in a broom closet with her for a few hours and wait to see what came of it?

"Unless we want to introduce someone new, we only have two choices on who we could set Harry up with. Now we just have to figure out how to do it," explained Hermione.

"Why don't we just ask him which of them he'd prefer?" asked Neville.

"Or asked them if they're even interested in him?" added Seamus. "Maybe all three of them are happier single."

Ron scratched his head. "They do have a point, Hermione."

She shot him a glare. "Are you saying you'd be happier if you were single, Ron?" she asked in a sickly sweet voice.

"No, of course not. I'm just saying that relationships haven't seemed to work out so well for Harry in the past, that's all," Ron said quickly.

"Now isn't the past. It's now."

"Hermione's got a point too, Ron," noted Neville.

Slowly, the four of them pieced together a plan that they hoped would end in their friend's happiness.


	26. Groggy

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Chapter 26: Groggy

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**Disclaimer: **I own only Josephine Clearwater. All else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

**Author's Note:** Long time no update, yes? I'm sorry. —hangs head— But I'm back! The muses are being kind to me at the moment and I _do_ know where the next chapter is going, so I've very excited about that. This chapter is sweet and a little bit fun. I hope you enjoy it. As always, reviews make my day.

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Harry laughed.

"Well, it's true. When you were talking to that reporter, Missy came over and started harassing me about monopolizing her _date_ all evening," Jo said, laughing as she took another bite of ice cream.

"You should have heard her when she was reprimanding me. She thought I was playing footsie with you all night." He wiped vanilla ice cream off the side of his cone with a cheap paper napkin.

"Footsie? You kept kicking me. And it _hurt_ I might add. My shins will be bruised for days."

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said to her, mock sympathetically.

"You don't mean that. Hmph!" She turned away with her nose in the air.

"Of course I don't mean it. But it could have been much worse."

"Worse than kicking me?" she asked.

Harry grinned wickedly. "Sure. I could have done this." Without warning, he started tickling her sides and she howled with laughter.

"Oh! Knock it off, you mean creature!" Laughing involuntarily, she picked up Harry's ice cream and shoved it down his shirt.

"Alright! Truce!" he cried, as she reached for her own ice cream. He stopped tickling her and shuddered. The ice cream was _very_ cold against his skin. "I wanted to eat that."

"Too bad."

Laughing, Josephine magicked away the ice cream from his shirt and they stood and left Fortescue's, walking along Diagon Alley. At this time of night, nearly everything was closed.

"So what did you really think of Hannah's cousin? Completely off her rocker?" Josephine asked, conspiratorially.

"Not completely, just mostly. She was nice, and she'll make some Quidditch player very happy some day. But, not me, and not today. She's a little overzealous, not to mention possessive."

"Yes, I did kind of pick up on that just a little."

"Hmm…" Harry said thoughtfully.

"Hmm, what?" Josephine asked.

"I could see her with Oliver Wood."

"Wood…He plays for Puddlemere, doesn't he? He was a Gryffindor?" She shivered as a gust of cool wind blew past; she hadn't thought to bring a shawl or cloak with her to dinner.

"That's right." He put his arm around her shoulders, figuring that had to be warmer than nothing since he didn't have a jacket to hand her. "If he's not seeing anyone, maybe I'll set the two of them up."

"Playing matchmaker all of a sudden?"

"Of course not, I leave that to Mrs. Weasley." He looked around. "I can't believe how dead this place is. Not much traffic this time of night and it's hardly after ten o'clock."

"Well, the Leakey Cauldron is probably open if you wanted coffee or something to warm you up after that ice cream," she said innocently.

"And whose fault was that ice cream?"

Josephine pretended to think about it for a minute. "Actually, going to Fortescue's was _your_ idea, Mr. Potter."

"Was it?"

"Yes, in fact it _was_."

They found their way to the Leakey Cauldron and sat, sipping coffee; they figured it would be quieter than the Bouncing Ferret on a Friday night. It was.

"So, when are you going to get that school of yours off the ground?" Josephine asked. She put her elbows on the table as she sipped her mug.

"A few weeks or so, I guess. I haven't really decided."

"A few weeks or so, you guess?" Jo shook her head. "That's ridiculous. Those people gave you their names because they want their children to start to get an education. You can be ready in a week and a half."

"A week and a half?" he sputtered. That was ridiculous.

"Oh, why not? It's not like you've got anything better to do all day, unless you want to go back down to the village and have that Muggle girl stalk you again."

He shuddered. Definitely not an option.

"Lighten up. Have some fun."

"I have fun," he said defensively.

"You do not. You spend all your time talking to me, when I should be out working and earning a living."

Harry took a sip of coffee. "I do _not_ spend all my time talking you. I was out with Hermione just a few days ago. And there was Giona from the pizza parlor just yesterday." He tried to wrack his brain for other examples. Emily; he didn't even want to think about her. "And Luna I talked to—"

"More than a week ago, if I'm not mistaken," she said smugly. "Forget it, you need a life. And more friends than just me."

"Well, the last time I wanted to see Ron, he was writhing in bed from something the twins had made him drink."

"Excuses, excuses."

"What? Are you bored with me?"

"Not bored, but I feel sorry for you if I'm the only thing you've got to hang out with. I mean come on, there's got to be better alternatives. Reading a book for instance. Or staring at a blank wall." She laughed, but Harry didn't think it was funny.

"Don't be so hard on yourself. I know that was only _half_ a joke, Jo," he said, serious. "You're my best friend these days. The only one I can really relate to."

"I know, I'm only teasing."

They dropped the conversation and an uneasy silence settled between them. Normally, if it was just the two of them, silences weren't awkward or uneasy; they were comfortable.

Jo looked around.

"What are you looking for?"

"A clock."

Harry checked his watch. "Nearly eleven, why?"

"I was thinking, what if we went shopping for more supplies for your school. I know you could get it running by next Monday," Jo said.

"That's what, ten days from now? This time of night nearly everything's closed."

Jo grinned a grin that would rival the Cheshire cat. "It may be eleven o'clock here, but it's not eleven o'clock in say, New York. Or Los Angeles."

He looked at her evenly. "You really think I can pull off this school thing?"

"I know you can. Especially if I help you prepare for it."

Harry threw some money on the table. "Then let's go."

* * *

They decided to start in New York; by going there they gained five hours. If they didn't find everything they wanted or needed, they just needed to go another three thousand miles to Los Angeles and they would gain another three hours. Sure they'd be exhausted when they finally got home in the morning, but so what?

"So, what exactly do you need?" Jo asked. They were leaving a wizarding bank in upstate New York where they'd changed Galleons for dollars.

"Reading and writing books. Some maps. Math books. I guess I don't need that much," he said sheepishly. After all, they'd already gotten the screens, and he had pens, pencils, ink, quills, and paper.

It didn't take them long to find a bookstore. Once they got there, Jo went a little crazy, searching out all her old favorite friends. "_Charlotte's Web_! Look, _Grimm's Fairytales_."

Harry ended up with over a dozen books for various reading levels, and a few books on math by the time they left the bookstore.

"It's seven o'clock," Harry said, looking at his watch.

"Let's go to New York City."

"New York City?"

"Sure it'll be fun."

He looked at her dubiously. "Why was I previously under the impression that you don't like shopping?"

"I don't like shopping, but I don't feel like going home yet. There's got to be something to do." She looked at Harry pleadingly.

Harry threw his hands in the air. "Oh, all right. Let's go and paint the town red."

Jo grinned. She liked winning.

"Where should we Apparate to?"

"Allow me." She took a hold of his wrist and Apparated.

Harry shook his head when they reached their destination and shuddered. "You know I hate that. Where are we?" he asked, looking around. He'd never been a fan of slide-along Apparation.

"Take a look out the window."

Harry approached the window cautiously. There wasn't much light to see by, but the view was still breathtaking. They were surrounded by water, with lights in the distance.

"Where are we exactly?"

"Standing in the torch of the Statue of Liberty."

"Jo, anybody could walk in here!"

She gave him a look. "The torch has been closed for at least a few years now. The arm couldn't take all the traffic. Besides, the whole place is probably closed this time of night. I just wanted to see the view, spoilsport."

Harry continued to stare out. The view was certainly breathtaking.

"Do you have anywhere _you'd_ like to go?"

"Nothing I can think of." He wasn't too familiar with New York. He'd only been to the States once, and that was for a Quidditch game…in Kansas.

"How about a play? There's got to still be tickets for something on Broadway tonight."

"Let's go find out."

* * *

About three and a half hours later, they were walking along Broadway for the second time that night. They found that it was eleven o'clock at again.

"That show was great. _Into the woods, into the woods, into the woods and home before dark!_" Jo said, spinning around.

Harry laughed, watching to make sure she didn't fall off the sidewalk and into the street in her high heels. There were still more than enough cars out that could run her over and kill her before magic could save her.

"_There are giants in the sky…_" Laughing, she looked at him.

"Actually, in my experience, their half-brothers brothers hide them out in forests." He laughed. "That woman who played the witch had enough hair to rival Hermione."

"_It's the last…midnight. It's the last wish…_ The play was really deep."

"Yeah. There were good lessons in there, but what are you betting that more than half the people that walked out of there missed it completely?" Harry asked.

"Oh, I'd say at least half." She sighed. She had _Hello, Little Girl_ stuck in her head now, and that was the last image she wanted.

"Ready to go home?"

"No! Come on, I'm more awake now than when we left Penny's house."

"So am I. All those songs really woke me up." She'd gotten _Giants in the Sky_ stuck in his head.

"So, let's go to Los Angeles. We'll gain another three hours."

Harry thought about it. "You'll keep the whole household up singing all night if we don't go, won't you?"

Jo gave it a thought. "In all likelihood? Yes."

"And so we go."

* * *

It was only eight o'clock in L.A., but as far as their time-lagged bodies were concerned it was already five in the morning.

They walked the streets of Hollywood and it seemed _all_ the weirdos were out for their night on the town. Harry kept close by Jo. If anything happened to her he'd never forgive himself. Why couldn't she have wanted to go some place quiet?

They passed by a group of about fifty Santa Clauses, mostly wearing leather, fur, mesh tops, or army boots. Harry could have sworn at least one of them had a whip.

Harry had never much cared for big cities; living at Hogwarts away from everything had been enjoyable. Soon enough, Jo had had her fill of people watching. "Let's find a store."

"Here?" There were plenty of things open, but nothing that looked particularly savory.

"No, we'll get on the next bus that passes by."

Harry stuck out his wand arm and the Knight Bus appeared. "Oh look, the next bus just passed by," he said cheekily. He stifled a yawn.

"That's not what I meant." She yawned. It _was_ getting late and Harry had woken her up far too early to help her sister.

"Are you two getting on, or what? You stuck your wand arm out, dincha?"

"Yeah, we're getting on," Jo said, looking at Harry. She yawned again. "If we Apperate home now we might splinch ourselves."

"Good point."

As they boarded, Stan Shunpike recognized Harry. "Harry Potter! Er, wasn't your name Neville? Which you is you?" He scratched his head. He finally seemed to be over the worst of his acne at last.

Jo raised an eyebrow at Harry. "Care to explain?"

"Not really," he told her. He was amazed that Stan even remembered the Neville incident. "It's Harry, Stan, and we're going to Britain. The Burrow, just outside of Ottery St. Catchpole." He wasn't sure how specific he needed to be.

"That'll do. Ernie'll find it one way or the other."

Harry handed Stan 34 Sickles. As the Knight Bus started moving again and hopped back to somewhere in Ireland, Harry and Jo made their shaky way to one of the beds and sat down, leaning against the window together to sit and talked. Harry knew that with the way the Knight Bus jumped around, they'd never fall asleep.

He was wrong.

He severely underestimated Jo's exhaustion. Before the second stop, Jo fell asleep on his shoulder, muttering groggily about clocks and giants.

* * *

**Author's Note: **_Into the Woods_ was playing in 2000, but I don't know if it was still playing at the end of November(ish) which is about when the story is set. As far as Hollywood? I've been a few times and don't much care for it. When I was there last month to see Narnia at one of the big theatres with my church we _did_ see a group of Santas that looked like that. I'm sure the little children were scarred for life.


	27. Home at Last

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Chapter 27: Home at Last

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**Disclaimer: **I own only Josephine Clearwater. All else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

**Author's Note:** Look! A quick update. Yay! Thanks for reviewing. This chapter is a little choppy, very broken up, but there are definitely elements I like in it. Updates (for this story at least) will be weekly for the next 3 weeks.

* * *

Harry dozed off and on as the Knight Bus continued on its erratic path, picking up wizards too drunk to Apperate home, and dropping off passengers who'd been riding for much longer than Harry and Jo.

When they finally reached their destination around eight in the morning, Stan Shunpike had to come and wake both Harry and Josephine.

Harry sat up groggily and couldn't remember having lain down. Jo was next to him, her face down in the pillow. He started waking her. "Jo. Josephine, c'mon. We gotta go home."

"Nng…"

"You don't want to spend the rest of the day riding the Knight Bus, get up." He pulled her to her feet, picked up his bag of books, and waved goodbye to Stan and Ernie as they disembarked. The house was only twenty feet or so away.

* * *

Mrs. Weasley looked around cheerfully at her husband and daughter. "Do you think Harry or Josephine will be joining us for breakfast?"

Ginny looked skeptical. "Harry might, but Josephine likes to sleep in. I never heard them come in last night, so they'll probably sleep 'til noon."

"They might have Apperated straight to their rooms," Mr. Weasley pointed out, looking over the top of his paper. "And Harry could have Flooed directly to the attic."

"That's true. Would anyone like more bacon?" Mrs. Weasley settled the plates and foods on the table, and sat down to start eating with her family.

The door opened and they all turned to look at the intruder.

Harry was standing in the doorway, a half-asleep Josephine Clearwater leaning on his arm. He saw the family seated around the breakfast table. He'd hoped they wouldn't be awake yet. "Good morning."

"Would you like some breakfast?" asked Mr. Weasley. "There seems to be plenty on the table."

Harry looked at Josephine. She was still fairly out of it. That girl could sleep through anything. He yawned. "Actually, I'm going to take Josephine upstairs and then catch a little sleep. Thanks for offering." With six eyes following him, he led Josephine up the stairs. He took her to her room and got her to lie down on the bed. He picked a blanket off the floor and covered her with it. "Good night."

"In the sky…" she muttered sleepily.

Harry chuckled and yawned. He really needed to get some sleep. He closed the door gently behind him and went up to his room.

* * *

Mrs. Weasley was astounded. "They never came home last night!" She looked about ready to faint.

"Sit down, Molly," Arthur assured her.

"She was wearing a fancy dress and he was in a shirt and slacks. The clothes were rumpled; they must have been in them all night. Where have they been all night? Something terrible could have happened to them."

"They could have been anywhere," Ginny said; her tone didn't indicate whether or not that was a good thing.

"I wanted them to be happy, but this is all too sudden," Mrs. Weasley said, sniffling a little.

"Mum, it's Harry and Josephine. They've said time and time again they were just friends." Ginny was beginning to doubt that. She'd lose the bet if signs were saying what she thought they were saying. She'd have to find out soon.

"Why don't you just relax, Molly?" her husband encouraged.

Ginny was wondering what could have possibly kept them out this late. If they were going to sneak in, they should have done it earlier, or at least Apperated into the house.

"I've got to leave for work," Arthur said, standing and kissing his wife. "But try to calm down."

"I've got to go for training. We start in forty-five minutes and I wanted to run a few plays by the coach before anyone gets there." Not to mention have coffee with a certain someone.

As her husband and daughter left, Molly Weasley dithered for a few moments. Josephine and Harry really were perfect for each other. At least now they would have to come out in the open about their relationship. She hoped they'd both be down by lunch and willing to talk. And now she knew they were home safe and sound.

* * *

Around noon, Harry woke up and stretched. He looked around for a moment, wondering how he'd gotten to his room. Right, they'd come home on the Knight Bus because they were too exhausted to Apperate. He yawned. What should he do with his day?

He looked at his table (and bag of books) and thought guiltily about his future students. All that was really left to do was contact them and arrange what time and day each wanted to be schedule for. He could at least start that today.

He took another long yawn. There was his shirt…on the floor. He looked at himself. He'd been too exhausted to undress fully or put pajamas on. He'd taken off his shirt and climbed into bed, still wearing his slacks _and_ shoes. Shoes? He must have not been thinking right.

He sat down to write his first letter.

_Mr. and Mrs. Bierce,_

_ I'll gladly teach Eudora English, Math, and Geography. I'll teach any time—Monday through Friday—between 9 a.m. and 4 p.m. excluding Tuesday afternoons. Times will be handed out on a first come, first serve basis. Please owl the Business Ads Department at the Daily Prophet with your time preferences at your earliest convenience. My fee is 15 Galleons an hour._

_Yours truly,_

Harry paused. Yours truly, who? Ah, he had it. _Yours truly, T. Chair. _Perfect. Satisfied that one letter was out of the way and he now had a model to follow for the rest of them, Harry decided it was high time he put fresh clothes on and have some well deserved food. Breakfast. Er, lunch?

He put jeans and a green t-shirt on, gave his hair a few hopeless shakes, and went to the kitchen to make a sandwich.

Mrs. Weasley was sitting at the table, reading a book.

"Good morning, Mrs. Weasley," he said, much more cheerful than when he'd first arrived on the doorstep that morning.

Mrs. Weasley shut the book. "It's almost one, Harry."

"Then good afternoon. Has Josephine come downstairs yet?" He took out a couple slices of bread from the breadbox.

"Not yet. She must have been very exhausted."

"She was. She insisted on gallivanting every which way last night." Gallivanting? Where had that come from? He'd forgotten words with that many syllables were in his vocabulary.

"Really?" So it was all Josephine's idea.

"Uh-huh." Where was the cheese?

"Did you stay with Percy and Penelope quite late?"

There it was. And ham. This was starting to look like a very good sandwich. Now where did Mrs. Weasley keep the lettuce? "No, actually, we left a little after dinner was over."

"Oh?" Then where were they the rest of the evening?

Lettuce! And tomatoes. This was definitely looking good. "Would you like a sandwich?"

"No thank you, I ate." He was avoiding the question.

"We went to Diagon Alley and walked around."

"Really?"

"Nothing was open." He laughed as he poured himself a glass of milk. "It was the strangest thing. Josephine got this idea in her head that we should go somewhere."

"Oh?"

He sat down at the table with his plate and glass. "We ended up in New York. Spent, I don't know, maybe four hours there. Then, she wanted to go to California. I don't know what she was thinking, I haven't known her to be that much of an adventurer, but by the time we left California on the Knight Bus we were beat. Slept on and off most of the way home." He took a bite of his sandwich. Delicious. "I don't know how she managed to get any rest on that thing, the way it pops from here to there all the time. I don't like traveling on it but it was better than risking splinching ourselves."

Mrs. Weasley digested this new information. Apparently it _didn't_ seem the two had admitted their feelings for one another. Merlin's toes, she'd been hoping the charades were finally over.

"What are you reading?"

"Oh, just an old book on healing spells." She'd been giving some thought to Harry's idea about going back to work at St. Mungo's if she could. It would be better than spending her days home alone.

"Good luck with that." He finished his sandwich and went to put the plate and glass in the sink. "I've got to go and finish some letters. I'm writing to the parents of my students to start arranging a time schedule."

"Alright, dear. I'll see you at dinner."

"Sure thing, Mrs. Weasley." His stomach comfortably full, he headed back towards his room and ran into Jo on the stairs.

"Morning, Harry," she said, blinking.

"Good morning? It's almost two."

"That's nice." She wasn't quite awake yet.

"You should go shower. Wake yourself up a bit…if you don't drown first."

She glared at him. "Ha, ha. Very funny." She scratched her head and Harry started laughing. "What?"

"Your hair looks like a bird's nest. Most of it came out of the braid." He gave the end of her braid a tug.

"You're mean, you know that?"

"I know. I don't care," he said cheekily. He gave her a push in the right direction and continued past her on the stairs. He had another fourteen letters to write. Not mention he still had to get to Hogsmeade to mail them all off. Seamus wouldn't be happy to see all that mail show up for him. Oh well. It'd give him something to do. Seamus. Hannah. Missy. Oliver. Make that 15 letters to write. He'd better get started.


	28. Ginny

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Chapter 28: Ginny

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**Disclaimer: **I own only Josephine Clearwater. All else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

**Author's Note:** I like this chapter. Good information is revealed. I shall say no more than that.

* * *

Harry finished writing his last letter.

_Oliver,_

_I know it's been a long time—haven't seen you since the Cannons played Puddlemere—and I don't know if you're seeing anybody, but there's this really great girl I want to set you up with. I think you guys would have a lot of fun. So, if you aren't attached, let me know I can talk to her. She's really into Quidditch. If you are attached let me know._

_Maybe we could meet up for coffee and catch up._

_Harry_

Done. Now all he needed to do was go to Hogsmeade and mail them all off. Life was good. If he managed to set Missy up with Oliver he'd feel a lot better about her having such a lousy time with him last night. He went downstairs to see if Mrs. Weasley or Jo needed anything from Hogsmeade.

He knocked on Jo's door, but there was no answer. He shrugged and went downstairs. Mrs. Weasley was in the living room, reading again.

"Hi, Mrs. Weasley. Do you know where Josephine is?"

"She went out a little while ago. Did you need something?"

"No. I'm going to Hogsmeade to mail some letters," he held up the stack as evidence. "And I just wanted to see if anyone needed anything."

"I'm fine."

"Alright then. I'll be back before dinner." He went out and Disapperated.

* * *

Ginny was eating lunch with Neville and Ron. Hermione was crunching numbers at the twins' shop and couldn't make it.

"I know you guys planned to set Harry up with Daphne—

"Because he's too far into friendship with Josephine to recognize date potential in her."

"Hold off on any thoughts on Daphne. I've got news," Ginny insisted.

"Wait, how do you know about Daphne?" Ron interrupted for the second time in as many minutes.

"Neville told me. We ran into each other when I was having coffee this morning," Ginny told her brother impatiently.

"What about your information?" asked Neville.

"Harry and Josephine stayed out all night last night and didn't come home until breakfast."

"What?" Ron's eyes popped. That didn't sound like Harry.

"No…" Neville said, stunned.

"_Yes_. I don't know what was going on but I think the Daphne direction is wrong."

"Well, I haven't seen him, so I never got a chance to put any Daphne thoughts in his head to begin with," Ron said.

"Good. Will the Daphne plan work on Josephine?"

"Hard to say."

"If he spent the whole evening with her, who says there needs to be a Josephine plan?" pointed out Neville.

"True."

They pondered the matter until Ron stood up. "I've got to go. Moody'll have my hide if I don't get back. Nice hat, Gin," he snickered.

Ginny made a face. "So I'm having a bad hair day. Leave me alone."

Still snickering, Ron left.

Neville glanced back to make sure Ron was gone. "So you really did it?"

Ginny nodded. "It's not that it's bad, I like it. I just didn't want him to see."

"What about your mum?"

"She was too preoccupied with Harry and Josephine to even ask why I was wearing this stupid hat this morning, and when I got home yesterday I went straight to my room without seeing anyone."

Neville hesitated. "Can I see?"

She nodded.

He reached out with both hands and gently picked up the pink and yellow hat.

Ginny shook her head to let her hair settle down from where it had been tucked up inside the hat.

He smiled. "I love it, Gin. It really makes your eyes pop out."

"You're not just saying that?"

"Of course not. You know I'm nothing if not honest. I can't lie to save my life."

Ginny smiled, matching him. "You're the best thing that's happened to me in a long time, Neville." She kissed him. "I've got to go, my lunch break ended five minutes ago. The coach will throw a fit if I'm late."

"I've got to be getting back to the nursery anyway." He kissed her.

"I really do have to leave," she said regretfully.

"All right. But tell that coach of yours that I don't like these Saturday practices," he told her playfully.

"Will do. It's only until the Puddlemere game."

"That's Friday."

"You'll be there?"

"Of course I will."

With a final, lingering kiss, they went their separate ways.

* * *

Harry gamboled around Hogsmeade for a while. After the post office, he stopped in at Honeydukes for candy to bring back to the Burrow.

Harry got home late in the afternoon and found Josephine in the kitchen. She held a shopping bag in one hand and was leaning on the doorframe.

"What are you doing?" he whispered conspiratorially.

"Listening. There's a big row going on between Ginny and Mrs. Weasley. It just started a few minutes ago. Ssh!"

Harry joined her in the doorway, looking into the living room.

Ginny stood defiantly in the middle of the floor, hatless. Her hair, previously reaching mid-upper arm, was short now. It was short enough that you couldn't even call it a bob.

"Ginerva, why in Merlin's name did you do that to your beautiful hair? You look like a boy!"

"I do not! Besides, I'm playing on a team of men and the hair was getting in my way! Isn't it better that I just blend in with my teammates?"

"No one will look twice at you! My children are backwards! Why does one son insist on wearing his hair down to his elbows while my only daughter shaves her head?" Mrs. Weasley wailed.

"I didn't shave my head! Not even close! And for your information my boyfriend loves my new hair cut!" she screamed.

"You didn't ask if you could cut it!"

"I'm 19 and more than of age! I don't need to ask your permission!" Ginny stalked out of the room and up the stairs like an angry cat. She slammed her door behind her.

Harry and Jo looked at each other. "Think we should make ourselves scarce until dinner?"

"Definitely."

Up in Harry's room, Josephine and Harry sat at the table. Jo made a face.

"What now?" he asked.

"You need a couch in here."

"Where is there room for a couch?" he asked.

"I don't know yet, but give me time and I'll find it," she grumbled stubbornly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "If you hate the chair so much, sit on the bed."

"Alright, I will." She relocated herself to the aforementioned piece of furniture. "I bet there hasn't been a fight like that in this house since that row between Percy and his dad."

"This wasn't _that_ bad. It was just a good scream about haircuts. They'll get over it."

Jo looked skeptical. "You don't recognize a declaration of independence when you see one? Ginny told me she wants to move out. She asked me if I'd rent a flat with her."

"And?" Harry prompted when Jo didn't continue.

"And I didn't say yes. But I didn't say 'no' either. I like it here."

Harry looked around. "Me too. I think it's because we didn't grow up here."

Jo readjusted the pillow more comfortably. "Oh, I got you something today."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Catch!" She threw her shopping bag at him.

Harry caught and opened it. There was a battery operated wall clock. And a pack of batteries. "Thanks, Jo."

She shrugged. "I meant to pick one up for you last night, but I never got the chance."

Harry looked around for somewhere to hang it later. "I bought chocolate at Honeydukes today. Want some?"  
"Sure."

He took a slab of chocolate out of his bag and tossed it to her.

"I don't even remember how I got home last night."

"You fell asleep so I carried you home for Diagon Alley." He kept a straight face.

"Liar," she laughed. "The last thing I remember was getting on the Knight Bus."

"That's because you fell asleep just after we got on."

"Oh."

"I don't know how you managed to stay asleep. I hate that thing. By morning, the bus stopped in front of the house. I tried to wake you. You practically sleepwalked with me to the door. I wasn't even sure you could stand up on your own, you were so out of it," he laughed.

"And then?"

He took a deep breath, telling himself he wasn't going to laugh. "I opened the door and everyone was in the middle of breakfast!"

"No!" she said, disbelieving.

He nodded, cracking up.

"Did they say anything?"

Harry worked on controlling his laughter. "Mr. Weasley asked if we wanted anything to eat."

"_Mr._ Weasley, not _Mrs_.?"

"Mr."

She laughed. "And then?"

"I said we weren't hungry. I brought you up to your room, and then I came up here to sleep."

Jo tipped her head to one side. "Do you hear something?"

Harry opened his stair door. "Mrs. Weasley is calling us for dinner."

"Well this should be interesting," Jo said, standing. She followed Harry though the house.

Dinner was already on the table and three redheads were seated around it.

"Hi, Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley, Ginny," Josephine said cheerfully, acting as though she never heard the argument. Still, it wasn't like Jo not to pick a side. "Would you pass the potatoes, Ginny?"

As Ginny mutely handed the bowl to her, Jo looked closely.

"Hey, you changed your hair. It looks great."

Ginny shot her mother a withering look and looked back at Josephine. "Thank you."

Mrs. Weasley looked at Harry.

Harry wondered if he was supposed to side with Mrs. Weasley against Ginny and Jo. He was familiar with the tempers of all three women and wasn't keen on siding _against_ any of them. He stole a look at Mr. Weasley, who merely shrugged; it wasn't a fight he wanted to get into the middle of either.

Mrs. Weasley instead only asked, "How was Hogsmeade, Harry?"

"Fine. I mailed my letters and went to Honey dukes for some chocolate. After that, I mostly just walked around and enjoyed the fresh air."

"I would have rather have been there than work," Arthur said. "I'll be glad when thing settle again and they don't need me for Saturdays. I still don't understand why people are enchanting Muggle objects at a higher rate now."

Dinner passed with polite conversation, though the Weasley women never did make direct comments to one another. As everyone finished eating, Mrs. Weasley said she had an announcement.

"What is it, Molly?"

"I've decided to start working at St. Mungo's again, if they'll have me. My family has been raised. They don't need me everyday any longer."

"That's wonderful, Molly!" Arthur exclaimed. "We always talked about you going back, but the time was never right with our children." He knew she missed St. Mungos.

Harry was glad; she'd taken his words from the pizza place to heart. "I'm really happy for you, Mrs. Weasley."

"Me too. You should go for it," encouraged Josephine.

Ginny smiled. "Do whatever makes you happy or life isn't worth living," she said.


	29. Closer

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****Chapter 29—Closer**

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**Disclaimer:** I own only Josephine Clearwater. All else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

**Author's Note:** Not a long update, but it's something. It's kinda like housework that had to get out of the way. It's a decent chapter, but not fantabulous. I had to put this up so things could get moving again.

* * *

The next day Harry went down to breakfast. A late night talk between Ginny and Mrs. Weasley had reconciled the two. Mrs. Weasley still wasn't happy with the haircut, but she agreed unofficially to say no more on the subject after Ginny promised to have her boyfriend over for dinner on Thursday.

Breakfast that morning was pleasant and relaxed. It was Sunday and no one had a job to go to. The coach had given the team a day to rest, and Mr. Weasley's increased hours didn't extend to Sundays.

Harry was halfway through his potatoes when Pig flew in through the open window and flopped onto his plate.

"Pig, what have you got there?" He took the letter from the bird. It was written in Hermione's neat handwriting, rather than Ron's untidy scrawl. The missive was short and to the point.

_Harry, I have news about the halfway house. Please come over this afternoon. You're welcome to bring Josephine and Ginny too. Hermione._

He looked up at Josephine and Ginny. "Hermione's got good news on the werewolf proposition. She wants us to come over later."

Jo looked at the note. "It doesn't say she's good news. It just says news."

"Forgive me for being optimistic," he replied sarcastically.

"I'm just saying, if it were good, she'd probably have us over now, and not later."

"Maybe she's busy now."

Josephine rolled her eyes. "What do you think, Ginny?"

"It doesn't do to hope too soon on something like this, Harry. _But_ Hermione isn't always forthcoming with information, so maybe it isn't bad news." She ended with a shrug.

Harry muttered something about the two girls being wet blankets and exited the kitchen to start planning lessons. On his way out, he said, "I'm going over there after lunch."

* * *

At one o'clock Harry, Josephine, and Ginny were sitting in the Ron and Hermione's living room with Amelia Bones. Hermione had gone to the kitchen for a pitcher of water before telling them the news.

Amelia leaned across the table and queried quietly, "Has she said anything to the three of you yet?"

"Only that there's news," replied Harry.

"The same here."

Just as Harry was about to ask if there'd been any official word on the funding, Hermione returned.

"So? What's the news?" nudged Josephine, after a short silence.

Hermione was just about glowing. "Well, I found a place for the halfway house for the werewolves. I found the building at least. We might have to move it."

"You found it?"

"That's great!"

"When can we see it?"

"Just as soon as Remus gets here. I told him to stop by around one," Hermione told them.

Almost as if it had been planned, there was a knock.

Ginny grinned. "That'll be Remus."

* * *

In almost no time, the six of them were inside an old building. It was large; spacious wouldn't be a bad word for it. The building was very open. The entire first floor seemed to consist primarily of a single room. The walls were concrete blocks. There were only two windows—small—at the front of the building near the door. The whole bottom floor was a single room except for a space not much larger than a closet. Across the room from said closet (which was actually a bathroom) was a staircase with a small cupboard underneath.

"Well, what do you think?" Hermione asked nervously.

"It looks entirely suitable," Remus said cheerily.

"I know it isn't much now, but picture it," she said, trying to convince herself that it really could happen.

Harry nodded. He could see this place, after it was finished. Existing walls could be painted, and new walls could be put up.

"Does the upstairs look like this too?" asked Ginny, looking at the staircase.

"Pretty much. I know it doesn't look like much, but we can put walls up to create rooms. It was a warehouse for years, but it's been empty for a while now. We can buy it, if we think it'll work." She looked through the windows at the rocky coast.

"Not much of a view," Jo remarked.

Harry agreed, looking out the window at the rocky coastline. It reminded him of pictures he'd seen of Azkaban. "A bit of a depressing view. I see why there aren't many windows," he said quietly to Josephine.

Hermione heard him. "You're right, but there's a spell that could move the entire building. No one person could do it alone; it needs group power. There's no other houses around Ron and my house for miles. It's green and open with trees surrounding it. We could relocate the building there."

The decision appeared unanimous—it wasn't much, but it was workable and came at decent price. Amelia signed her approval. Hermione had the money within an hour and officially owned the property by nightfall. It was a done deal.

They set a date for the relocation spell and figured out the particulars of dealing with the vacant lot that would be left by the move. By Tuesday morning the building would be established at its new location. They all went to the Bouncing Ferret to celebrate, each in his or her own fashion.

Harry and Jo spent much of the night dancing.

* * *

Monday morning found Harry quite chipper. The halfway house looked like it was actually going to come to pass. And maybe even by next week he'd start teaching.

He smiled. He _liked_ busy days. He _liked_ having something to keep him occupied. Maybe it was even safe to go the village for a little while today. He picked out a t-shirt and blue jeans and went downstairs to take a shower.

When he came out of the bathroom, towel drying his hair, Jo was waiting impatiently.

"Finally!" she said. "I've been waiting forever. I was going to shower earlier, but Mr. Weasley was in there. I left, and when I come back you were in there." She rolled her eyes.

"What's the rush? You're not going anywhere today. Are you?"

"As a matter of fact, I am. I'm working on another story. Nothing big, but I've got an appointment for later." She tried to push past him.

"Wait a second. Tomorrow's Tuesday."

She stopped. "Where did we decide on going?"

"We didn't. How about Mediterranean?"

She shrugged. "Works for me. Find a place and let me know."

Harry went downstairs and helped himself to some toast. Since Jo would be out of the house, now would be a great time to work on her room. They never painted the ceiling or redid the floor. They hadn't had time.

When Harry came back from the village, the house was empty. Jo was gone, Ginny was at practice, Arthur was at work, and Mrs. Weasley was inquiring about some mediwitch positions.

He decided that the easiest way to paint a ceiling would be to get on his broom and hover there.

* * *

At eleven-thirty p.m. Remus, Ron, Hermione, Harry, Josephine, Luna, Ginny, Neville, Molly, Arthur, Dumbledore, Kingsley, Bill, Flitwick, Tonks, Charlie, Poppy, and Minerva were all assembled in living room of the younger Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

"Is everyone here?" asked Hermione, looking around.

Dumbledore counted. "Eighteen. All are accounted for."

"Does everyone know where we're going?"

There were seventeen replies in the affirmative.

"Alright. Albus, will you please go over the instructions one last time, just to be sure everyone knows what they're—"

"Hermione, everyone knows, alright?" mumbled Ron.

She shot him a severe look.

"When we arrive, everyone will go to their appointed positions; twelve of us will be assembled in the twelve clock positions, and the other six of you are here to see to it that no one is overwhelmed by the spell, nor falls out of it. We are dealing with a very large concentration of power here and it would be disastrous for it to go awry. At my signal we will start the chant, wands raised to shoulder height and pointed at the building. Are their any questions in pronunciation? We must be in sync."

A word or two was cleared up and they Apparated one by one. The first two to arrive placed a silencing spell around the perimeter to help quiet the noise of rest of the arrivals.

Hermione looked around, nervous and excited. It was finally going to happen.

Harry checked his position. He was between Hermione and Jo, standing at seven o'clock. He could just barely see Dumbledore around the corner at twelve o'clock. Ron was next to Hermione at 5. Poppy, Filius, Minerva, Charlie, Molly, and Ginny were set out around every other person, about four feet behind them, ready to step in or help if someone were to be overcome by the spell power. They fueled a powerful silencing spell; a building's disappearance would make a lot of noise.

Dumbledore took a little tin whistle out of his pocket and blew it. As one, the twelve began feeding their power together—the other six had to remain outside of the spell to watch its casters. Slowly, evenly, they spoke; the power spell slid into the relocation spell. Done! With an all-mighty wrench the earth let go of the building and it hung suspended in the air for a nano second before vanishing.

The casters let their arms fall heavily to their sides. It felt as though they'd been holding them up for an eternity.

As they felt they had the strength to, they began to Apperate back to Ron and Hermione's home. Once there, Hermione offered coffee, tea, brandy, and any other refreshment necessary to the guests. If anyone was too tired they were free to stay the night on the couch or in one of the two spare rooms upstairs.

"We'll be alright," Tonks said cheerfully.

"I don't want anyone to splinch themselves on the way home. Feel free to use the fireplace," Hermione said, worried.

Neville leaned back into the sofa. "What about the big hole where the building used to be?"

"The Ministry will take care of it in the morning with spells and people. They'll make the Muggles forget the building was ever there."

Harry yawned, rubbing his arm. Jo fell asleep on his shoulder. He smiled. He was pretty sure she hadn't seen her room yet and wanted to see the expression on her face when she saw it in the morning.


	30. Paperwork and Stonework

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* * *

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Chapter 30—Paperwork and Stonework

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I own only Josephine Clearwater and a few other sundries. All else belongs to J. K. Rowling.

**Author's Note:** Wow, I didn't know where this chapter was going. And I didn't think it would lead me where it did. Not yet anyway. I'm sorry, but I know all the apologies in the world don't mean anything when you're waiting to find out what happens, so here's the update.

* * *

Seamus took the stack of letters on his desk to the _Prophet_'s Owlery to mail them off to Harry—letters in which the parents wanted to arrange what times their children would be taught. He still didn't understand why Harry insisted all letters go through the paper. His students would recognize him in a heartbeat likely and tell their parents who he was. Harry was always odd though, so he didn't see why he was surprised about this.

After tying the letters into groups of about three—so that each owl had a manageable number—he sent them to Harry. He stayed there for a moment, looking out the window at the street below. It wasn't a very attractive view. The street was dirty and crowded. With a sigh, he went back to his dreary office. "Hullo, Hannah," he said, passing by.

"Hello, Seamus," she replied, bored.

Without further words he continued to his office. Opening the door, he found a visitor waiting for him in his chair, looking through the things on his desk.

"Luna!" he said, his mood cheering immensely.

"Have you found the meaning of life yet? I'm getting awfully tired of pondering in circles this morning. I was hoping someone else would have the answer."

He grinned and motioned her to get off his chair. He sat down and she immediately sat down on his lap. "Well, a pretty smart girl told me that it's not in the answer that we learn, but in the seeking."

She put her head on his shoulder. "Oh, really?"

"Oh yes."

"And do you think this girl has all the answers?"

He thought about it. "Sometimes, I think so."

* * *

When they woke up around eight, those who had stayed the night were examined briefly by Poppy to ensure that they had suffered no spell backlash. Harry and Josephine, asleep on the couch, had struggled out of groggy slumber and into the waking world. After a brief breakfast and a look see at the new location of the werewolf home, everyone dispersed.

At half past ten, Harry looked at the first letter he picked up. The Bierces wanted to block out the nine o'clock hour for their five year old all week. That was harsh. Sure Muggle kids were in school all day by age five, but still, it seemed like a lot of pressure. He looked at his blank timetable and counted. Not counting any sort of break in between, he had seven class hours a day—minus four hours on Tuesday; he still insisted on Tuesday afternoons off. That gave him thirty-one hours of class time, spread out over fifteen students, most of whom were taking more than one subject. He'd have to put people into classes. There were five five-year-olds taking at least English and Math. He could handle a class of that many five-year-olds, right? How much trouble could they be? He thought back to the sort of children Fred and George were when they were five.

Maybe not. He could always break it up smaller depending on what the other letters said.

Two hours later he had the best class schedule he could figure out. If it wasn't going to work out with someone, then they could drop the class; this was as good as it got. End of discussion.

**Monday**

**Tuesday**

**Wednesday**

**Thursday**

**Friday**

**_9:00-10:00_**

7/8 Year Old English

8/9 Year Old Geography

7/8 Year Old English

7/8 Year Old English

7/8 Year Old English

**_10:00-11:00_**

7/8 Year Old Math

9/10 Year Old Muggle Studies

7/8 Year Old Math

7/8 Year Old Math

7/8 Year Old Math

**_11:00-12:00_**

9/10 Year Old Math

9/10 Year Old Math

9/10 Year Old Math

9/10 Year Old Math

**_12:00-12:30_**

**_12:30--1:30_**

5 Year Old English

5 Year Old English

5 Year Old English

5 Year Old English

**_1:30--2:30_**

5 Year Old Math

5 Year Old Math

5 Year Old Math

5 Year Old Math

**_2:30--3:30_**

6 Year Old English

5/6/7 Year Old Geography

6 Year Old English

6 Year Old English

6 Year Old English

**_3:30--4:30_**

6 Year Old Math

5/6/7 Year Old Muggle Studies

6 Year Old Math

6 Year Old Math

6 Year Old Math

There. He'd finished it. He'd be working 7 hours a day, four days a week, and fours hours on Tuesday. He stretched his hand, trying to get the cramps out of it. With a sigh, he reached for more parchment. He had to write back to the parents and let them know what their schedules would be. He had all the younger kids in the afternoons, and all the older ones in the morning. He grimaced. His five year old class had five kids in it. He sincerely hoped he knew what he was getting into.

With a sigh, he got back to work. He'd stop at noon. He and Josephine were all set to meet for their weekly lunch.

* * *

They pushed their plates away and sat back.

"So when do your students start arriving?"

"Next week, I suppose. I sent off all the letters just before I saw you, and drew up my schedule. I should be able to manage that I think. I'll start Monday, and until then, I can help work on the werewolf house. I'm sure Remus and the others would like to move in as soon as possible."

She sipped her tea. "That's true."

"And I left Tuesday afternoons open from 11 until 2:30; we can keep our weekly lunches."

She grinned. "Good man."

"But every other day I'll be working from nine in the morning until half past four in the afternoon. Not to mention any grading I have to do after they leave."

She patted his hand. "You'll be fine."

"And if anybody hates me as a teacher and decides to drop out, there'll be three other kids vying for the spot. I didn't even open most of those letters, Jo. Only responded to the first ones that came through really."

"Well, you're just very popular."

He sighed. "No, people just don't want to spend time with their kids. It's sad."

"That might not be the case for all of them. Some of them have parents who both work. Neither can spare the time to teach them, and they don't live near enough to a Muggle school to go."

"Well, I suppose you're right."

They sat in silence.

"I know what'll make you feel better," Jo told him, grinning.

"I didn't say I was feeling bad."

She agreed, "No, you didn't. But it's all over your face. Let's go find Remus, and Hermione, and we'll get started on repairs and renovations tonight if they'll let us."

"Aren't you working on a story right now?"

"Finished it. I told you it wasn't anything gut-wrenching or hard-hitting, but a girl's gotta eat and the story is done and laying on the editor's desk."

Harry paid the tab and they Apperated to Remus's home. They knocked on the door.

Remus answered it. The full moon was in a little less than a week and he was starting to look a little haggard. "Harry, Josephine, what can I do for you?"

"Nothing, we were just going over to the building where the home will be. Wanted to know if you'd like to join us, or if you had any input."

"So you know Hermione is already there?" he asked leaning in the doorway.

"No, but that doesn't surprise us," Harry answered.

"We've got someone new. Just came in this week. A nurse I know at St. Mungo's brought him over."

Harry bit his lip. "New? That means there's someone else biting."

Remus shrugged. "Not everyone is careful, and there's no knowing how many Greyback bit before he died. We've got to find them all." His voice cracked a little.

"Remus, why don't you bring your boys with you? All of us can go over there and start working now."

He hesitated.

"They can paint, can't they? Or lay cinderblocks for the walls? It'll do them some good just to get out of the house," Jo pointed out.

"Go check with Hermione and see that she has supplies first. If she does, then we'll come," Remus agreed.

"Done," Harry said, grinning. He disappeared with a crack and Jo followed him. Harry threw open the door to the werewolf house. "Hermione!" he called. He looked around for her. She was sitting on the stairs, looking at the pile of supplies in front of her. "There you are. We came over to see if you were ready to start work on this place and wanted some help."

"Oh. Hi, Harry. Hello, Josephine. I was just looking at all this." She waved vaguely at her surroundings. "The cinderblock seemed like a decent idea. Easy and cheap enough over all, but it's so ugly."

"So you paint it. It's not like we hadn't planned to paint it all anyway. Right?"

"I suppose. We haven't even really started and it seems like it'll never be finished."

"Hey, the Hermione I know wouldn't be looking at all this like this. What's really the matter?"

She looked her long time friend in the eye. "I'm afraid that we'll do all this and the Ministry won't come through. They won't pass the laws we need passed to encourage people to join or to give the werewolves their rights. They won't give us more funding. They'll just try to keep things exactly the way they are right now."

"So, what? That doesn't mean we can't make this happen." He hugged her tight. "Now, you've got six willing workers, willing to start the minute you say jump."

"I only see two."

Jo walked towards her. "As soon as you say they can, Remus and his three houseguests will be here, eager to work."

"Alright. Let's do this."

Hermione summoned a giant piece of chalk and started to write on the concrete floor, marking out rooms. "I figure we can fit twelve bedrooms on the second floor, and down here on the first floor we will have plenty of space for a dining area, and a classroom, and a potion's room, and a reception area, and I'm not sure what else yet."

"Will twelve bedrooms be enough?" asked Jo.

"It depends. Twelve rooms allows for a good-sized room for each. I don't want this to feel like a prison. About 15 feet, by 15 if I remember right."

"Then let's get started."

Hermione went upstairs and drew the outlines for the bedroom walls first, leaving spaces for doors.

"I'll go get Remus and the others. If you'll both start with the walls…?"

"Gladly." With a mix of magic, and labor, the place would take shape. With magic, they transferred all the blocks up to the second floor from the first. Then Harry and Jo debated whether to use Permanent Stick charms, or Muggle means to hold the blocks together. In the end, Jo won out and they used the charm. Still, it was slow going lifting each block into place before securing it down. Still, they managed to make a dent so to speak in the first room before Hermione and Remus and the others showed up.

It was then that they realized they should have used Muggle means to stick the bricks together. Remus and Hermione could use wands, but the others probably couldn't.

Remus made introductions. "John, Leonard, and Samuel." One by one, they shook hands with Harry and Josephine. John was a boy, nine years old, and with fair hair. He was a Muggle and his terrified parents had cast him out of the house, not knowing what else to do when they discovered his condition. Leonard was in his early fifties. He had managed only a few years after being bitten—in his early thirties—before he lost his job and had his wand taken from him; he'd been living off the land more or less ever since, trying to find isolated places to endure his torture. Samuel's parents had kept him chained in the basement during the full moon, but more or less treated him decently otherwise, though they were from an old family and wouldn't let him disgrace the family name by sending him to Hogwarts where he might cause trouble, no matter how much Dumbledore tried to convince them otherwise. His parents had been elderly and were gone now, and he was on his own, not yet thirty and incapable of any controlled magic; his sister had ceased to have anything to do with him years before. "Meet Harry, Josephine, and I've already introduced you to Hermione."

Leonard and Samuel seemed a little suspicious of Harry and Jo, but only gave nods.

Twenty minutes later, Harry returned with cement, trowels, and a wheelbarrow. He shot water from his wand to mix in with the cement. The walls began to go up rapidly. Leonard and Samuel were glad to be doing something useful and John was glad to be out of that house.

Hermione, Remus, Harry, and Jo went downstairs and Hermione marked out the downstairs rooms. She looked apologetically at Remus. "I'm sorry about the cinderblock for the bedrooms. I know it's not very cheerful."

"I know, but the cinderblock will have to be enough to hold them—us—until we can get someone to make massive amounts of Wolfsbane Potion for the four of us," he said gently. He looked tired and sad.

Hermione took a long time marking the floor for the downstairs, because she wasn't precisely sure what she wanted or needed there. She asked Remus's advice.

"Well, your plans don't sound bad. A kitchen we need, and a place to eat. A place for someone to make our potions. A small hospital ward. A class room. A greeting area. Perhaps a common room of sorts as well. It's really up to your discretion."

In the end, Hermione made her chalk outlines, but decided they wouldn't do any work there yet. The four of them joined the three upstairs and by the time they all decided to stop for dinner at eight, three and a half rooms were finished. Severing charms had been used to cut the blocks when needed and they were held in place with a combination of cement and permanent stick charms.

Hermione wiped sweat from her forehead. "I'll get some dinner before everyone goes home."

"Home?" asked Samuel.

"We'll stay and work, if you'll feed us and give us some light to keep working by," added Leonard.

John nodded in agreement, though his arms were aching.

"It'd be nice to at least have these rooms and have doors on them, if nothing else, by the time the moon turns. Remus has been kind, but all the same…we don't want to tear up any more of his things, or each other."

Hermione nodded. "Does anyone know what they want to eat?"

"Whatever you bring, we'll eat," Samuel said firmly.

In the end, Jo went out to bring back food, and Harry and Hermione and Remus created wizard's lights for all six of them to work by. They took a brief break—half an hour or so—and ate the chicken and potatoes Jo had ordered from somewhere.

Even when they finished the fourth room's walls—they'd deal with doors another day—they kept working for another hour. They were well on their way to completing their fifth room when they finally called it quits.

John had fallen asleep against one of the recently built walls. Everyone's arms were aching. "Are you sure you want to work tomorrow?" asked Hermione, looking at the weary bodies in front of her.

They nodded.

Her heart went out to them. "I swear I'll do everything I can to find someone to make the Wolfsbane potion." Hermione made a mental note to add a fireplace to the list of things she needed for the first floor. They needed to be connected to the Floo Network. Hermione and Remus used slide-along Apperation to get Samuel, John, and Leonard back to Remus's home, the same way they'd arrived in the first place.

"What time do you want us tomorrow?" Remus asked.

"Whenever you feel like coming. I'll be there early."

"I'm sure they'll come whenever they wake up. Hermione, I told you this was going to happen. You're really making this happen." Despite his exhaustion, Remus did seem happy.

Hermione wasn't. "It hasn't happened yet. But it will. It has to." She looked at John, sleeping on Remus's couch. No little boy's face should look that old.

Harry and Jo already decided that they'd come back as soon as they were awake enough in the morning. Until then, all they could do was try to recuperate with muscle soothing spells and lots of ice.

Harry was acutely aware of just how lucky he was to have the life he had. Not only was he healthy, but also he had friends, a family (after a fashion), his magic, a roof over his head, and food in his stomach. What more could he want?

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**Author's Note: **For easier to read chart of classes, email me. I lost the formatting and had to manually retype it when I uploaded this.


	31. Dealing

**Chapter 31**—**Dealing**

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**Disclaimer:** I own only Josephine Clearwater and a few other sundries. All else belongs to J. K. Rowling.

**Author's Note:** It's been awhile. I'm sorry. My muse has been uncooperative lately. And I just got back from Spain. And there were some headaches about that on the way back. But once I started working on the chapter again this afternoon, I managed to whip out the last five or six pages fairly simply. Not that I had any idea what I was doing of course, but it seemed to wrap itself up quite nicely. My muse never tells me what's going on, he/she/it simply implants the thoughts in my fingers. Don't ask me how: I don't know.

But enjoy the chapter anyway. It's nice and long (by my standards anyway).

* * *

Harry woke up, still aching all over. He felt like he never wanted to move again. By the time he got out of the shower and stood in front of the mirror he was scolding himself. He looked at his arms; they looked fine but felt far from it. He decided that he was becoming out of shape already, so soon after Quidditch. He was sore. Clearly, he needed to put some exercise back into his schedule on a regular basis. Towel secure around his waist, and clothes under one arm, he walked to the door and unlocked it. No sooner had he unlocked it than the door happened to collide with his face. He staggered back a step.

"Harry, I'm sorry! Did I hit you hard?"

Harry rubbed the side of his face with the hand not holding up his towel (the clothes were under his elbow). "I'm alright, Gin," he grimaced.

"You sure? That doesn't look so great." She examined his face.

"I was unlocking the door and about to Apperate to my room when the door opened. You on your way to practice?"

She nodded. "We've got that big game tomorrow." She looked at him. "Apperate? Well, I suppose that does make more sense than tackling the attic stairs wearing a towel." She laughed.

Despite his face still smarting a little, Harry laughed too.

"So are you done in there?"

Harry motioned her to go in and Disapperated. Up in his room Harry dressed and used a charm to make the swelling on the side of his face go down. Once he was dressed he we went downstairs and knocked on Jo's door. There was no answer. He knocked harder. Still nothing.

"Jo!" he called.

"Nnng…"

"I'm coming in." He gave one last knock and entered.

Josephine was lying in bed, her feet sticking out from the edge of the blanket, and a pillow pulled over her face.

"Jo, wake up."

Her voice was muffled, but the words and tone were both clear enough for Harry to understand. "Go away, Harry."

Harry folded his arms and thought for a minute. He really only had to options: be nice, or don't be nice. He didn't want to be nice. They had work to do on the werewolf house and Jo should have been awake by now anyway. He'd give her one last chance. "Jo, wake up. We've got work to do."

"No way, Potter."

Well, he'd given her every chance. He moved a couple of steps closer to her bed and snatched her blanket, tossing it across the room.

Jo rolled away from Harry, as close the wall (and as far from him) as she could. She kept the pillow over her face.

Harry grinned and silently counted to five; maybe she'd think he'd left. On five, Harry jumped forward and kneeled on the bed. As quick as could be he began tickling her mercilessly.

She managed to hit him a few times with her pillow, but soon the pillow was on the floor and he was still relentless in his attack.

"Do you give up?"

"No!" She was trying not to laugh.

"Come on, we've got to go help Hermione."

"Stop tickling me! Ah! Noo!"

He had her fairly well pinned now and stopped tickling her for a moment. "Surrender?"

"Do I have a choice?"

He grinned. "Not really."

"Then I guess I do. Now get off."

"Say the magic words." He might as well have a little bit of fun while he had the chance to.

"Please get off."

He sighed, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "Wrong."

"Well, what's the _right_ password then?"

"Harry Potter is absolutely gorgeous."

"No way. I'm not saying it."

"Say it, Jo."

"No, and you can't make me." She stuck her tongue out at him.

Harry, however, felt he could make her. He started tickling her sides again. At last, Jo was puffing for air and more or less squealing for him to stop.

"Harry…Potter…is…" She glared at him and he stopped tickling her long enough for her to finish her sentence. "An absolutely gorgeous _prat_."

His half-second of surprise was all she needed to reach down, grab her pillow again, and proceed to whack him with it.

It all ended with the two of them lying side by side, trying to catch their breath. Harry broke the silence. "So, now that you're up, you might as well come with me. I'll bet Hermione has been there since dawn and could use our help."

"Harry, my back and arms are honestly killing me from yesterday. They ache."

Harry raised himself to his elbows. "How's this? I'll go downstairs, cook breakfast, and come up here and rub your back."

Jo considered. It wasn't a bad offer, but she'd still have to pay him back for waking her up in the first place the way he did. "Alright."

Harry went down to the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley was cleaning up breakfast.

"Good morning, Mrs. Weasley."

"Good morning, Harry. I thought maybe you'd already gone out without breakfast. There's plenty left." She gestured to the table.

Harry took two plates from the cupboard and started fixing them up with food.

"Arthur and Ginny of already left. I'll be going to St. Mungo's to speak to someone within the hour."

"Josephine and I are going to go and see Hermione in a bit," Harry said, carefully balancing a glass on each plate. Harry started cautiously for the stairs, one plate in each hand.

Mrs. Weasley watched him thoughtfully. She wondered whether she should think it odd than Josephine wasn't coming down for breakfast. She smiled to herself.

Harry reached Jo's door and kicked it with his foot, doing his best not to spill anything he was carrying. "Jo, let me in or you don't get any breakfast."

Jo opened the door and let him in.

Harry put the plates carefully down on the desk. When he turned around, he noted that she hadn't gotten dressed yet. She was still wearing flannel pajama bottoms and an oversized t-shirt. "I thought you'd be dressed by now," he told her, a touch irately.

"Didn't feel like it. Which plate is mine?"

"You know very well which one. The one without sausage; I know you won't eat it."

Jo took her plate and glass and sat on the bed. Harry settled himself at the desk. They chatted while they ate. When they were finished Jo said, "You owe me a back rub."

"Fair's fair." Harry got up and settled himself behind Jo on the bed. He put a hand on each shoulder and started kneading the shoulder blades with his thumbs. He worked his fingers up and down her back, getting all the kinks out of it. He could hear bones sliding into place. He worked his hands back up her back and to her shoulders, rubbing her upper arms a little too. "Better?"

"Much." Her shoulders hadn't felt this good in weeks. "How'd you learn that?"

"I've got a natural knack, though Luna taught me a little. Can you be ready to go to the Halfway House in ten minutes?"

She looked up and continued stretching her neck back as far as it would go until she was looking at him behind her upside-down. "I suppose so."

Half an hour later Harry and Josephine were standing in front of Remus.

"Where's Hermione?"

"She disappeared 20 minutes ago. We've been here about an hour working on the bedroom walls upstairs. We've finished the fifth room and are just starting on the sixth.

"We would have been here sooner…" Harry gave Josephine a teasing glare.

"No need to explain. With less than a week left until the moon is full, the boys just want to get their rooms finished. I don't know what Hermione's plans for the doors are, but they've got to be strong. Who knows how long it could take to find someone willing to make Wolfsbane potion for _four_ of us." He looked ruefully at his hands. "I wish I'd been better at the subject myself."

Harry patted him on the shoulder. "All we can do is work with what we have." He wasn't strong at potions either. The three of them went upstairs to add their manpower to the efforts there.

Hermione stood in front of Penelope, arms folded and eyes glaring. "Penelope, you told me there'd be efforts made and I don't see you doing anything."

"You've got the building now, don't you? And we're still in the process of clearing the location where it formerly was in such a way that the Muggles are not suspicious. That building was there for a very long time."

Hermione tried very much to control her temper. It wasn't easy. "I've showed you the advantages of what I propose time and time again, but we won't get people in the program if we don't have a place to put them. Remus Lupin has very kindly donated his home for himself and the other lycanthropes to live in for the meantime."

"Then why can't—"

"Because we _have_ a place for them. We just have to finish it. Besides, Remus's home is small. They're constantly running into each other. They've nowhere else to go. The full moon is less than a week away. Even if the rooms we're building are finished by then—and we still need doors for them, mind you—it's still torture. They'll be tearing themselves to shreds. Even if we found someone to make Wolfsbane potion for the four of them right now, it's too late for this month. They need to take it a _full_ week. But I need a Healer from St. Mungo's take care of them the morning after the full moon and I want someone on staff at the House to make the potion on a regular basis. And the rooms will need furnishings." Hermione's nostrils flared and she stood there, resolute.

"Take this slip of parchment to the finance office and they'll give you whatever supply money you need at the moment. I make no promise as to when you'll get a potions master to brew your Wolfsbane. You will have your Healer. I'm sure there must be someone at St. Mungo's willing to do it."

Hermione took the slip and nodded. It was a start. She wished she were more talented at potions, or that Severus Snape hadn't disappeared after the war. She'd attempt the potion herself of course, but wouldn't tell anyone. It wouldn't do to get their hopes up and then fail them.

An hour and a half after Harry and Josephine had arrived at the Halfway House, Hermione Apperated to the bottom of the stairs with two canvas sacks and six reinforced doors. As was to be expected, such an arrival made a larger than average _pop!_ of imploding air. Remus and Harry both hurried down the stairs to see who or what had caused it.

"Hermione!" They bounded down the stairs toward her.

Tired as she was from the trip, she hugged them back fiercely. "I brought the doors. I've still got six more to pick up, but I thought I'd wait a little first."

"What's in the sacks?"

"Nothing important." She had obtained some of the more common ingredients necessary for a Wolfsbane potion, but would still have to go back to Dumbledore for the exact recipe and possibly for some of the more rare ingredients. But it was a start.

Remus, Harry, Samuel, and Leonard carried the doors up in pairs. Hermione made quick work of getting the sacks of ingredients out of sight. No need for anyone to get their hopes up. She'd visit Dumbledore tonight and see what she could accomplish. She may have a trick or two up her sleeve after all, come to think of it.

Harry passed time by talking with Samuel as they worked.

"How old are you?" Harry asked, curiously, trying to guess his age. Maybe thirty? Perhaps a little older?

"Twenty-six. I'll be twenty-seven in March."

Harry blinked. Twenty-six?

Samuel smiled grimly. "The condition takes its toll on a body." They worked in silence for a few minutes. "What about you? What do you do all day?" He was genuinely curious.

"I played Quidditch for a while after Hogwarts. And then I started doing some home-repair."

"And now?"

"I start a teaching job next week."

"Hogwarts?" Samuel said the name wistfully.

"No, younger. I plan on teaching children from magical families whose parents can't stay home and teach them and who live too far away to go to a Muggle school."

"Makes sense."

Harry wondered if his next question was rude and decided to ask anyway. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to, but…how long has it been?"

Samuel didn't even pause. "Twenty one years, three months, and four days."

Harry didn't know what to say.

"Your friend there—Remus—has suffered with it longer than any of us."

Harry nodded. "Longer than Hermione and I have been alive."

"That Hermione is something though, isn't she?" Samuel asked.

"Amazing. I've known her since I was eleven. She was one of my best friends. Still is."

"And your other best friend?"

Harry smiled. "My other best friend married her."

Samuel did pause, and looked at him. "Leaves you rather out of the loop then, doesn't it?"

"They belong together. And we're still friends, and I've got more friends now than I did as a kid."

"Like the girl you came in with today?" he asked slyly.

Harry felt like rolling his eyes. "Yes, another friend."

"That's what they always say," Leonard snickered, passing by with his arms around one of the doors Hermione had brought.

Harry looked over at Josephine on the other side of the room. She was holding a lively conversation with young John on the other side of the room. Funny, he'd never really considered her as the sort to be good with kids.

Samuel looked amused. "Your eyes do tend to stray in that direction, Harry."

He bent down over the blocks, hiding his face (he could feel himself just starting to blush at the ridiculous accusation). "I do not. Josephine is a friend. Kind of a surrogate best friend, since I've been living without my other two in the same building as me for the first time since I've met them. They'll probably start a family soon."

"And what about you?"

"Me?"

Harry shook his head. "Someday. Not yet." A voice whispered in his head _But you'd like it to be soon, though? Wouldn't you? Be a father to your son. Have a wife. Yes?_ Harry shook the thought away. When he found the right person, he'd know.

The afternoon's work passed by. The walls went up, the doors went up. Six rooms had four walls and a strong door each by dinnertime. They'd be ready for the moon.

They had debated as to whether or not they ought to begin moving what possessions they had into the rooms and decided against it. They'd be spending a full moon here without Wolfsbane potion. They were all content to spend a few more days at Remus's until that night came.

Hermione would be having plumbing wizards come in during the next week to see about creating a large community bathroom at the end of the hall and a single bathroom downstairs. There was still a great deal to be done, but they called the night early. Harry volunteered to go get paint from the hardware store at Ottery St. Catchpole and bring it back. They'd whitewash the walls first (the ones that were finished at least) and everyone could choose their own wall colors from there.

They still had the entire first floor to deal with, but for the moment, the important part was done.  


* * *

As Harry lay in bed that night, he had a lot on his mind. John was nine and hadn't been in school for three years at least. He was one of the last of Greyback's victims. Maybe _the_ last. Who knew? But he clearly had missed out on education since his bite. Harry wondered if he could take him in as an additional student. Maybe in the evenings. Even if he wanted to go, John was a Muggle. Maybe someday he could work at Hogwarts as gamekeeper. Or something. Or caretaker. Anyone would be better than Filch.

And what about Samuel? He'd gotten his math and reading and so forth from his parents, and he had magic, but he couldn't use it. He'd never been given the opportunity.

And Leonard? Or, Leo as he preferred to be called actually. He was quite old when he'd gotten the bite. Greyback normally chose to bite young children. Was there a particular reason he'd been bit? Or was it maybe not Greyback who did it? He had a life, a perfectly normal wizard's life, and it was shattered by a monster.

Harry was interrupted from his drowsy reverie by a quiet knock at the door. A muffled voice called, "Harry?"

He padded over to his trap door stairway. "Stand back." He opened the stairs and backed away.

"It's dark as pitch in here," the voice complained. "How'd you even find the stairs to get them open?"

"_Accio_ wand," Harry muttered. His wand zoomed into his hand. "_Lumos_." As he knew even before he could see her face, his guest was Jo.

"That's a little better," she said.

"I don't have much light in here," he said, half apologetically. He walked barefoot to his bedside table and used his wand to light a candle there. He picked the candle up and walked towards the table and lit a group of three candles there, before replacing the first on his bed.

"I don't understand how you can move around in here like that without running into anything." She hadn't moved since she came in.

He shrugged, and then was aware that she probably couldn't see his shrug. "It's not that hard. Not everyone is a blunder-foot, Jo."

Had he been able to see the expression on her face, he would have seen that he was being pierced with a death stare.

"It's late, Jo. What brought you up here?" he asked, curiously.

"Show me where to sit. I feel like if I tried to find one of the chairs right now, I'd probably miss and fall on the floor." She sounded almost pouty.

Harry got up and led her to the bed to sit down, bringing the three candles from the table with him. "So what's all this about?"

She handed him something. "I brought something for you."

Harry took the plate and sniffed it. "Chocolate!"

"Brownies," she corrected. "With walnuts. And milk."

"What's the occasion?" Harry carefully put the plate down on the bed between them. He had put one table candle next to the one on his bedside table, put another on the windowsill, and mashed the last one onto some free space on the plate. He'd have to find a way to make lamps work in here without electricity, or go out and get some torches or flashlights. A pity he hadn't thought of either of those options sooner. His wand was still glowing and he put it on the bed.

Jo busied herself with the plate, which (in addition to the candle) had two brownies on it and a glass of milk. Rather, two glasses, one full, and one empty. She picked up the full one and poured half of it into the empty one.

"Jo?" he asked, softly. It was a reminder that she had come in here in the middle of the night and he'd like an explanation as to why.

"You've been quiet since we came back from the Halfway House," Jo said. "You didn't really say much at dinner and shut yourself up in your room pretty early without really talking to anyone." She paused. "I was worried."

"And you thought to bribe me into conversation with milk and brownies in the middle of the night," Harry concluded.

"Not quite. I thought to bribe you into telling me exactly what's on your mind—with milk and brownies in the middle of the night."

Harry said nothing.

"Tell me, Harry. Whatever it is, I solemnly swear not to mock you, laugh at you, or otherwise ridicule you." She paused. "Or be particularly angry with you if that's the case."

Harry reclined back on his elbows, taking a bite of one of the brownies. He was silent for a long while. "It's John. Samuel and Leo too, but mostly John."

Jo nodded. It didn't surprise her particularly, but she hadn't figured that's what it was. She had no idea what was on his mind when she came up here.

"I've just been thinking. John went to school for—maybe—a year or two. He hasn't had any writing or reading lessons or anything like that since."

"Remus and Leo started with him a little bit since he's been there."

"He can't quite go back to the Muggle world, but he's not a wizard. I was trying to figure out his place in things. I thought maybe I could teach him—like the other students I'm starting with. And then I was thinking about Leo and Samuel. What type of life did he have before he was bitten? A job I'm sure. Maybe a wife and kids. Where are they now? And Samuel's got a sister somewhere out there—a Pureblood—who won't have anything to do with him. He's got the talent for magic, Dumbledore told him he could and should go to Hogwarts, and his parents wouldn't let him. It's all ridiculous. And even when the Halfway House gets running, the ultimate goals and can't accomplished until the laws change." He shook his head. "It just doesn't seem fair."

Jo sighed, truly feeling sorry. "Harry, you of all people know that life isn't fair."

"Well, it should be."

It was eleven o'clock at night, but Hermione had business to attend to. She stood in front of Dumbledore.

"We've made a start, and we couldn't have done it without your help. I need more help."

"Do sit down, Miss Granger. Or should I say, Mrs. Weasley?"

"Hermione," she said firmly. "We can't make any real changes until we get our laws passed, but in the mean time, there's other help we can give. It's too late for this month, but they need Wolfsbane potion. I haven't found anyone to make it yet. I'm going to try, but I need the potion recipe and some of the rarer ingredients."

"I'm sure our potions master will give you whatever you need from his cupboards—in the morning. I don't believe he's much of a night owl."

"Would he be willing to make the potion? If not done right, I know it can be dangerous and I've never attempted this before."

Dumbledore looked saddened. "You're welcome to ask, but he may very well reject. As it is, he does not wish to remain for the rest of the year. We've had a very difficult time keeping the position filled."

Hermione bit her lip. "Could you—"

"I could try, but like you, Potions was not my best subject at Hogwarts."

"Madam Pomfr—"

Dumbledore shrugged and looked sadder yet. "I have not seen her attempt it, but to the best of my knowledge, she cannot. Otherwise, Remus's transformations in his Hogwarts days would have been…less brutal."

This was her last try. "Would you," she took a deep breath. "Would you let me use Fawkes to try and contact Severus Snape?"

Dumbledore eyed his former student keenly.

Hermione took that as a signal to continue. "Severus Snape is the only man I know who has made that potion. I know he's not dead. It just doesn't seem like Snape to _die_. Hide yes, but he didn't die in the war and I'm hard put to believe that anything he's been through since might have killed him, wherever he is. I don't know if any owl—even Hedwig who has never failed before—could find Severus Snape when he doesn't want to be found. But I thought that maybe, just maybe, a Phoenix might succeed where an owl would fail. I would like to try, if you'll let me."

He studied her for a very long moment. He looked at Fawkes.

Fawkes flew and landed on Hermione's shoulder. She was surprised. She couldn't ever remember being this close to the bird before.

"Yes. You may have him. If you wish, you may write the letter tonight and Fawkes will take it. If he cannot find Severus in the next month, he will return." He seemed to be speaking as much to the bird as to Hermione.

Hermione hadn't been realizing she was holding her breath, but it came out then as a whoosh of air. "Thank you, sir."

"Albus," he corrected. He slid ink, a quill, and parchment across the desk to her.

_Severus Snape,_

_You've been gone for some time now, but apparently not long enough to nurse all your wounds, or you would be back among us. Your expertise in potion making is not easily matched. I have four werewolves I have promised to care for—werewolves that need Wolfsbane potion. It is too late this month, but I resolve to at least make an attempt for the next. I don't have your talent for potion making but if you'll work with me just for a month or two to make sure I'm doing things right, it would mean a great deal and you'd be helping Remus Lupin and three other lycanthropes—one not more than a small boy._

_Please come back. I'm not difficult to find. I need your help; I can't do this on my own. Contrary to popular belief, I am not a know-it-all. Albus knows where I am and how to reach me._

_As ever,_

_Hermione Granger_

She sealed the letter and wrote the name _Severus Snape_ on the front. Fawkes wasted little time in leaving and understood that he had a month to find Severus. She watched the scarlet and gold bird fly from the window.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore summoned a house-elf to bring tea and biscuits. Hermione wasn't looking particularly well at the moment.

She hoped the letter would arrive. All she could do in the meantime was try her best and wait. She fell back into her chair uneasily.


	32. Search and Rescue

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Chapter 32—Search and Rescue

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**Disclaimer: **I own only Jo Clearwater. All else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

**Author's Notes:** Hey. I like this chapter. It was fun to write, so I'll leave it at that. Oh, and review, so I know I'm not just clogging up cyberspace with uselessness.

* * *

Harry woke up, leaning against the wall his bed was against. The sun was slanting in through his windows. He looked around. There was an empty plate on the bed with two empty glasses beside it. A mostly melted candle was all that remained on the plate. And next to the plate was a girl. More accurately, the girl was Josephine, curled up in a ball next to him and lying on top of all his pillows. He scowled. Figures, she's lying on his bed on top of all his pillows and he's against the wall with his legs dangling over the side of the bed. He put his hand to his neck to rub a crick out.

He tried to remember how exactly they'd ended up like this. This always seemed to happen. They start talking and fall asleep. He shook his head. Now he remembered. She came in to find out why he'd been all moody and quiet, bribed him with chocolate, and had eventually gotten him to talk. He spoke of his concerns about the lycanthropes, and society in general, and ended up saying that he was very seriously considering adopting John. Come to think of it, he remembered saying that he was thinking of adopting him, but can't remember exactly when they idea occurred to him. Probably seconds before he said it. Jo had told him that he couldn't possibly just decide to adopt someone out of the blue. He refused to continue talking at that point, and she refused to leave until he was willing to talk. So, the stalemate ended with both of them falling asleep on Harry's bed; Harry leaning against the wall and Jo curled up beside him.

Shaking his head, Harry eased out of bed and brushed the crumbs off of his pajamas.

He glanced at Jo, who was quite clearly still asleep. He decided to leave her there. He gathered up fresh clothes and went down to the Weasleys' bathroom. He approached the door, didn't hear anything, but knocked anyway. With this house, you could never be sure.

"Just a minute!"

Harry moved back two feet from the door.

A moment later, Ginny Weasley came out, towel-drying her hair. "Morning, Harry."

"Good morning, Ginny. Today's the big game."

"Yup."

"Feel ready?"

Ginny looked at him wryly. "For the game? Yes. For having Mum meet my boyfriend? Not so much."

"I thought you were supposed to do that last night?"

She shook her head. "Had to postpone it. He'll come home with me after the game. I'm not looking forward to it."

"Come on, he can't be that bad. It's not like you're dating Malfoy or something," he chuckled.

Ginny looked at him, amused. "And what if I was?"

Harry tried to tell if she was serious or not. "I'd ask why, and then say that in all likelihood you're probably a smart enough girl to know what you want."

She grinned. "I knew I could count on you." She walked past him and Harry started into the bathroom. "Oh and, Harry?"

"Yes?" He turned to face her.

"It's not Malfoy."

Harry smiled, relieved, and went to take his shower. After he dressed, he went back up the stairs and saw the Josephine was just waking up. "Morning, Jo."

She blinked. "Morning, Harry." She yawned and started to stretch. "You give any thought to what I said?"

"I haven't made up my mind yet."

"Good. Don't rush into anything." With a smile, she went back to sleep.

Harry wanted to roll his eyes. He wasn't stupid. He knew that it would be a big responsibility, and not something to walk into lightly. The truth was, John probably wasn't the only one. How many more were in the same condition? Thrown out of their homes because of what they became. Samuel was nearly the same. His parents had kept him, but when they died, his sister refused to have anything to do with him. No, it wasn't something to walk into lightly.

There was a knock on Harry's outside door. It surprised him. There was a second knock. "Harry?"

Harry went to the door, and as he opened it asked, "Ron, what are you doing here so early?"

"Well, Moody'll have my hide if I'm late, and I had to talk to you." He strode into the room past Harry.

"Sit at the table, make yourself comfortable," offered Harry, only a hint of sarcasm in his voice as he shut the door quietly. He didn't want to wake Jo. She'd be cranky and he didn't feel like dealing with that just now.

Ron finally caught sight of the bed. "Harry, what…?"

"Ssh. Lower your voice or I'm not responsible for her temper when she wakes up," Harry warned him flippantly.

Ron raised both eyebrows and their disappeared behind his bangs. "What exactly happened?"

"Nothing. What's so important that you come barging in at this hour in the morning?" Harry joined him at the table.

"Well, it's not that early. You've already showered," Ron pointed out.

Harry gave him a warning glance. If Ron had a point, he ought to get to it. He intended to get an early start this morning, with or without Jo.

"Alright. Has Hermione seemed odd in the past two days?"

"A little stressed out maybe, but I've seen her worse and so have you. Why?" asked Harry. Ron sounded downright nervous.

Ron shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Well aside from being frazzled the last two days, she went out last night at quarter to eleven. Said she had an important errand to run and that she would be back soon; midnight at the latest. And I haven't seen her since."

Harry started to get worried. "And she hasn't sent any sort of word?"

"If she had, would I be sitting here?"

"I haven't heard from her. Maybe Josephine has." He glanced at the bed. "Josephine?"

"Mmph?"

"Josephine!"

"What?" came a cross voice.

Harry rolled his eyes at Ron. "Have you seen Hermione? Or heard from her?"

"Not since we left the werewolf place," she said. "Why?"

"Did she say where she'd be going?" He was really starting to worry, and he could see it in Ron's face too.

"No." She rolled over once, glared at Harry, didn't notice Ron, and went back to sleep, shielding her face from the sun with a pillow.

Harry shrugged at Ron. "She doesn't know. I don't either, but like you said, I'm dressed and showered. I'll look for her," he promised. "And I'll send word when I find her."

Ron looked relieved. "Thanks, Harry. This means a lot. If it wasn't for Moody…"

"You'd do it yourself. I know, Ron. Don't worry, Hermione can take care of herself." Harry looked around the room and grabbed his jacket and wand. His broom was waiting by the door. "You go to your Auror training, I'll look for Hermione."

Ron looked curiously over at Josephine. "What you going to do about _her_?"

Harry shrugged and looked impassively at the snoring rag-doll that was Josephine Clearwater. "Leave her there. She'll wake up eventually and go downstairs." He scribbled a note and left it on the table.

The redhead thanked his best friend again and Disapperated. Harry walked past Jo, picked up his broomstick, and kicked off from his landing pad. It wasn't too long of a flight to Ron and Hermione's house. He'd check there first to see if Hermione might have come back home while Ron was with him. He went in and checked the house. She wasn't anywhere to be seen. It was a short walk from there to the Halfway House. No one was there yet, and it looked like no one had been there since they'd all left the night before.

Where else to check?

Maybe she went to square things away with Penelope. That in mind, he Apperated to the information desk at the Ministry. He asked the guard if Hermione Granger had been there.

"Not that I recall."

Well, knowing Hermione, she may have skipped the security desk and gone straight to Penelope. "I need to see the Minister of Magic."

"Can't just let anyone walk in and see her. She's busy." The guard stared at Harry's Muggle clothing with some level of contempt.

Harry hated to play this card, but he didn't have much of a choice. His hair, still wet, was plastered to his forehead. His scar was quite easily concealed. He moved his bangs aside with his fingers, making sure the guard got a good glance at the identifying scar before letting the hair lay flat over it again. He'd try again. "I need to see the Minister of Magic."

The guard blinked. "Go right in, Mr. Potter."

When he was far enough away for the guard not to see his face, he grinned. He lost that grin when he found out Penelope hadn't seen Hermione either.

"She was in yesterday afternoon to get money and ask someone to make a Wolfsbane potion. _Four_ Wolfsbane potions. I told her I didn't have anyone and she might have to find someone herself. I gave her the money she needed for supplies and sent her off."

Well, that was a better lead than he'd had. She hadn't mentioned anything about Wolfsbane potion yesterday. "Thank you." He started to leave.

"How's my sister?"

Harry stopped. "What?"

Penny sighed. "I asked how my sister is. I haven't heard from her since the two of you left my dinner party."

The corner of Harry's mouth twitched in a smile. "She's fine. Doing quite happily at the Weasleys actually. You could visit her sometime, you know. It's not as though it isn't your mother-in-law's house. You'd be welcome there." _Hmph. That should be adequate repayment for the crick in my neck. _"Mrs. Weasley would never mind you and Percy coming over for dinner."

"If Josephine knew I was coming, she would like as not make other plans."

Harry shrugged. He couldn't deny that. "Mrs. Weasley would take you at a moment's notice. Josephine wouldn't have time to leave. Just something to think about." He said goodbye. He had some thinking of his own to do.

If Hermione were searching for potions masters to make Wolfsbane potion, where would she go? The only man Harry knew could make the potion was Snape. He was sure there must be others, but that was the only one Harry knew. And he'd wager it was the only one Hermione knew. Though he had to admit he was surprised that Hermione wasn't trying to make the potion herself.

Even so, if she did want to try, there was only one place she could guarantee to get the ingredients; the same place she had the best shot of finding out where Snape was. Hogwarts. It didn't explain why she didn't go home, but it was a start.

He felt suddenly guilty. He hadn't worked on his Snape article for the _Quibbler_ in days. He really ought to. He had made a commitment.

He tried to decide the best way to get at Hogwarts. It would be a long flight. He decided on Apperating to the edge of Hogsmeade and flying from there. It would be a short flight. It didn't take him long to reach the front door of Hogwarts and stroll right in. The Great Hall was empty—breakfast had clearly just finished, but as he strolled through the corridors, there were students everywhere. Clearly breakfast had only _just_ finished. There were plenty of curious glances his way, and whispers. It was as though he were a student there again. But he walked through the halls anyway, broom over his shoulder.

He wandered through, eventually making his way to Dumbledore's office. "Ton Tongue Toffees," he said, hoping the password hadn't changed.

It hadn't.

The gargoyle sprang aside and Harry ascended the stairs. He knocked on the door at the top of the stairs.

"Come in."

Harry entered the familiar office and sat in the chair in front of the desk. He looked around and saw something was missing. "Where's Fawkes?"

"Out on an errand. How've you been?"

"Fine, just fine."

Dumbledore studied him. "You seem nervous."

Harry ran his hand through his now drying hair. "Have you seen Hermione? We can't find her and thought she might have come here."  
"Rest assured. I have seen her. In fact, if I'm correct, she's probably just leaving now. She came in search of someone who could brew a proper Wolfsbane potion."

"Snape," Harry guessed grimly.

Dumbledore nodded. "I have not seen him. The last time I saw the man was the last time you saw him. But she has sent him a message and hopes it will find him. If I'm not wrong, she has worded it in such a way that it will be hard for him to refuse." His eyes twinkled.

"And what way is that?"

Dumbledore pondered. "In dealing with Severus, the best results would probably come from a combination of insult and flattery. Let him know he is necessary for the job, but offer enough insult as to make it a challenge worthy of him. Miss Granger has always had a knack for that sort of thing."

"But she came here last night?"

Dumbledore nodded. "She arrived a little before eleven. Miss Granger—or rather, Mrs. Weasley, I suppose—wasn't feeling very well after we sent the letter off and had to sit down for a while. I suggested she see if Poppy knew of anyone who could brew the potion for her. It just so happened that while she was there, Poppy insisted that she looked under the weather and needed a Pepper-Up Potion and ought to stay the night."

Something about the look on Albus's face told him that he knew exactly what would happen when he sent Hermione to Madam Pomfrey. "So, she's alright?"

"Oh, yes," Dumbledore said, cheering and popping a candy into his mouth. "Just fine. She should be on her way home by now."

"Ron was worried and sent me out looking for her."

Dumbledore summoned Dobby.

"Yes, Headmaster Dumbledore, sir? And Mr. Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby smiled wildly. "What can Dobby do for sirs?"

"Could you find Hermione Granger and try and keep her from leaving just yet? Send her to…Professor McGonagall."

"Yes, Headmaster Dumbledore, sir!" Dobby vanished with a crack.

"So, Harry. How have you been since we last spoke?"

Harry smiled. "Just fine. I got the teaching planners you sent Remus with. I'll start teaching on Monday. Fifteen students total."

"Good, good. And how is your new home?"

Harry smiled. "Just fine. I've been making little adjustments here and there."

They talked a while longer, though Harry found himself oddly not in the mood to talk to Dumbledore. When he got up to leave, Dumbledore said, "I believe you'll find Hermione in Professor McGonagall's classroom."

"Thank you." Harry smiled and started towards the Transfiguration room. He knocked on the door when he arrived, broomstick in hand.

"Yes?" Professor McGonagall asked, irate at being interrupted. She caught sight of who was interrupting her and he grinned sheepishly. "Really, Mr. Potter, I should think you knew well enough not to arrive late and disrupt a class." Her voice wasn't as stern as it might have been, and Harry knew she was glad to see him. Up at the front of the room was Hermione.

Harry leaned his broom against the wall and walked up to Professor McGonagall and Hermione. He distinctly heard on boy mutter to another, "I _told_ you I saw Harry Potter today!"

"And to what do we owe this visit?" asked McGonagall quietly.

"A reconnaissance mission, Professor," he said, very officially.

"Really now?"

He managed to continue with a straight face. "Yes. I was sent by a Mr. Weasley to recover one Mrs. Weasley and have scoured all Britain looking for her."

Hermione did her best not to laugh and McGonagall tried not to smile. "Well, take a look at the students. These are your fellow housemates."

Harry looked around at the Gryffindors. Third years it looked like. One bold boy with yellow hair stood up.

"Harry Potter, I'm the new Gryffindor Seeker this year."

He looked at the boy. "Are you?"

"Yes. And one day I'm going to play for the Cannons."

"Quite ambitious."

"But I'm not gonna quit like you did," he said stubbornly.

Harry arched an eyebrow.

McGonagall looked at her errant student. "That is quite enough out of you, Stewart. Mr. Potter, Mrs. Weasley, if you wouldn't mind I have a class to teach." She launched back into her lecture.

Harry and Hermione left, picking up Harry's broom on the way out. He had no doubt they would have been allowed to stay a little longer if it hadn't been for that one boy. But he had to admit the kid had spunk. "It's good to see you, Hermione." He hugged her.

"You saw me yesterday," she said, puzzled.

"Yes, but Ron didn't know where you were and came over this morning, worried sick."

It was Hermione's turn to look sheepish. She'd forgotten to send a letter home, saying where she was. Madam Pomfrey had more or less forced her to stay the night. "Ron was really worried?"

"You bet. So was I when I couldn't find you."

"I suppose I should try to visit him at work and let him know I'm alright." She seemed pleased that Ron had noticed her absence and worried; with Ron she wasn't always sure he'd notice something as obvious as that.

"I'll take you to the edge of Hogsmeade where you can Apperate to his work, and then I'll go to Ottery St. Catchpole and pick up the whitewash for the walls," he told her cheerfully.

Hermione was reluctant to get on the broom, but did it anyway. It would be the fastest way to get her to the Apperation point.

* * *

Harry Apperated to his outdoor landing and leaned the broom against the wall. He walked in. Jo was more or less exactly where he had left her. It was ten-thirty or so now. She really ought to wake up. Harry took out his wand and uttered a spell for moving bodies. He floated her downstairs and into the bathroom, filling the tub with fairly cold water before dropping her in (still wearing her pajamas). Harry wasn't sure how she possibly could have slept through all that, but she clearly woke up when she hit the water. She glared at him. "I'm going to _kill_ you, Harry!"

He laughed and left, quite pleased with himself. Without another thought, he tucked his wand in his belt and walked outside and down to the village for his whitewash.

The hardware store was open—as he knew it'd be—and Emily was at the counter. He grabbed the things he needed and took out his wallet.

"Where's your _girlfriend_?" she asked, pouting as she rang up the prices.

It took a minute for him to recall the scene Josephine had played the last time he was here. "She was still asleep in my room," he said casually. "I think she's probably taking a shower by now though." He handed her the money.

Glaring, she gave him his change and he took it.

He was still feeling quite pleased with himself when he got back to his room, pleased until he looked as his bed. To his dismay, Josephine's wet clothes and towels were spread out over it and they were wet and cold. They'd soaked through into the blankets.

He tossed the sodden garments down the stairs and left them in a pile, taking out his wand to dry the bed off. It was more than a mild annoyance, but he figured he'd get back at Jo again sooner or later. Probably sooner.

On the Weasleys' staircase, he ran into Josephine. "Hello," he said, cheerful.

"Harry, that is not the most pleasant way to wake up." She glared at him.

He folded his arms. "Well, how would you have preferred it?"

"There's any number of methods."

"Name one. Ron and I talked, there was light in the room, the door opened and closed. Plenty of things _should_ have woken you."

"There's always the alarm-clock, or if that's too modern for you there's any number of traditional methods."

He arched an eyebrow. "Traditional methods?"

"Serenading, calling my name and telling me to wake up—"

"Tried that one."

She continued as though she hadn't heard him. "Hitting me with a pillow, nudging me, or there's always the fairytale kiss which will work on anything from Princess's pricked by spinning wheels to girls who ate poisoned apples." She stuck her tongue out at him. "So there. You didn't try everything. There were still a lot of possibilities. More even than the ones I named."

Harry snorted. "None of those would have worked. Besides, you wouldn't want me to kiss you awake. For one, I'm out of practice, and two, I'm not a prince."

She rolled her eyes and changed subjects. "So where have you been?" She started moving down the stairs.

"Had to go find Hermione this morning—she was at Hogwarts—and then I went to the village to buy some whitewash for the walls of the Halfway House."

"That girl give you any trouble?"

Harry shrugged as they entered the kitchen. "Not much."

"That's good. It's too early in the morning for me to have to beat someone up."

* * *

Josephine stuck her head in the fire to talk to Remus, and she and Harry met the House's future residents at the House with the supplies. Hermione eventually joined them after smoothing things over with Ron. A few hours of hard work and the bedrooms were whitewashed clean over the dull gray blocks. It was certainly an improvement.

"Jo, you're going to eat dinner with the Weasleys tonight, aren't you?" Harry asked, starting to clean up. They had told the others to go home.

"I suppose so. Why?"

Harry grinned. "Because tonight is the night Ginny has to introduce her boyfriend to the family."

"I thought that was last night."

He shook his head. "It got postponed. They're meeting after the game."

Jo laughed. "Then I'll definitely be there."

Harry looked at his watch. "We still have time to make the game. You wanna go? Ginny's first professional match."

"Wouldn't miss it."


	33. Gathering Together

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**Chapter 33**—**Gathered Together**

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**Disclaimer: **I own only Josephine Clearwater. All else belongs to JK Rowling.

**Author's Note: **Okay, admittedly it has been awhile. A long while. I've been busy with my first semester of college and I didn't know how to do part of this chapter. I did eventually get it, so here it is!

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The match ended in a Cannons' victory. Ginny disappeared shortly after the game, telling her family that she'd be home for her late dinner in about half an hour. She went to the locker room, showered, and dressed. By the time she was dressed, her boyfriend was waiting for her, talking to the other team members.

"I'm ready," she said, coming forward and taking his hand. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

He kissed her. "Yes, and there's no backing out of it now anyway."

Her teammates knew she was apprehensive about introducing her boyfriend to her family and offered them both best wishes as they Disapperated. They stood outside the door to her parents' house.

"Are you _really _sure?" she asked.

"Yes. I'm sure." He smiled at her and kissed her on the forehead. "Go, we'll be fine."

Ginny took a deep breath and opened the door. "Mum! Dad! I'm home! I've got someone for you to meet." She went forward to the kitchen and motioned him to stay out of sight for the moment. She looked at the table. It was looking unusually full tonight. Mum, Dad, Harry, and Josephine were there; that was to be expected. What she hadn't expected to see was Ron, Hermione, Percy, and Penelope. The looked up at her expectantly; except Josephine, who was glaring at Harry.

Neville stepped forward, straight-backed, and put his arm protectively around Ginny. He met the gazes of everyone in the room. "Hello, everyone."

As Ginny and Neville took their places at the end of the table and chatter started up, Ginny found herself grateful for one thing. Rather two things: Ron was at the far end of the table from Neville and couldn't possibly strangle him, and the twins and her oldest brothers had better things to do tonight than come and check on her.

About halfway through dinner, there was the sound of someone Apperating in the living room. The sound was repeated. Fred and George came in, hollering in singsong voices, "Where's our sister's new beaux?"

They stopped at the edge of the kitchen and looked around the table, seeing only familiar faces. "Where is he?"

"It _is_ tonight, isn't it?"

Neville wiggled his fingers at them in a wave.

"Neville?"  
"It's you?"

Neville grinned a tad cheekily at the twins. "It's me."

The twins bent together, whispering conspiratorially. Then they separated, arms crossed in front of their chests. "We were inclined to hate any bloke our dear sister brought home, but we've now decided to suspend judgment until we can better assess the situation," George proclaimed.

Fred nodded and summoned chairs for he and George. There wasn't much more room at the table, so they sat behind Harry and Josephine, balancing plates on their knees. Every so often, one or the other of them leant forward and made a comment in Harry's ear that usually resulted in Harry glaring at the pair of them—once or twice instead of glaring at the twins he shot a glance at Josephine instead.

Josephine refused to speak to Harry. Unfortunately, with her sister seated on one side of her and Harry on the other, she felt like she had no one to talk to all night.

Conversation at the table mainly included the game or the goings on at the Ministry. No one had yet asked about how exactly Ginny and Neville had gotten together. Ron glanced at Neville every once in a while to see that he wasn't sitting too close to his sister. When dinner was finished, Mrs. Weasley suggested they all move into the living room for dessert and coffee. Neville offered to help carry the coffee out with her and clear the table.

"Thank you for your offer, Neville." She glanced at her children, none of whom had made a similar offer. "Fred, George, clear the table while Neville helps me with the coffee."

Fred and George cleared the table while the others moved to the living room. Neville cut slices of cake. With a "we're watching you" sign, the twins joined the others in the living room.

When the twins were gone, Mrs. Weasley gave Neville a tight hug. "I'm on your side, Neville. I hope things work out. If Ginny wasn't serious, she wouldn't have introduced you to us." She couldn't think of many nicer young men her daughter could be dating. She picked up the tray of cakes, and Neville took the coffee pot and cups.

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley."

Everyone appeared casual in the living room, but mostly they were waiting to grill Neville. Penny had been given the cold shoulder by her sister all night and really had no desire to stay any longer, but she could tell Percy was somewhat interested in the proceedings.

"So, Ginny, when exactly did _this_," Fred waved his hand at the small space between Ginny and Neville on the couch, "happen?"

"Maybe four months ago," Ginny said, looking at Neville.

"About four months," he nodded.

"What, you just ran into each other suddenly and started snogging?" asked George sarcastically. "Be specific."

Before either Ginny or Neville could open his or her mouth, there was the sound of someone Flooing into the kitchen. A second person followed and there was a loud thud.

"Are you okay?" asked a male voice.

A female replied, "Just peachy."

"Then scoot back so Bill can get through."  
As to be expected after those sounds and those voices, Bill, Charlie, and Tonks entered and made themselves comfortable on the floor in the living room. Charlie and Bill chose to sit on the floor near Fred and George, creating a united brotherly front. Ron very much looked as though he wanted to join them if it weren't for Hermione sitting next to him. Percy, sitting next to Penny, looked less fierce than the others. Harry looked at Josephine. Even though she was mad at him, she'd still rather sit by him than with Penny and Percy and had taken a floor seat by his chair when they entered. Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley shared the couch with Ginny and Neville.

"So how exactly did the two of you happen?" asked Charlie.

"We ran into each other at the Ferret one day, and we started hanging out," Neville started.

"We saw each other after work sometimes, and met for lunch about once a week, just to relieve everyday office boredom." Ginny shrugged.

Neville chuckled. "Spending all day talking to plants isn't complete fun, you know. They never seem to talk back."

Tonks, sitting between Harry and Charlie, found the entire situation humorous and tried not to laugh.

Charlie looked at his fiancé, and then back at Neville. "You really should only worry if the plants do decide to talk back, Neville."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"So you were friends," Josephine prodded. "What changed that?"

Ginny and Neville looked at each other and neither quite knew what to say.

"Too much Firewhiskey one night?" asked George.

"George!" his mother scolded.

Neville turned red faced. "No, no, it was nothing like that. Just…sometimes there were these moments between us."

"Moments when something should have seemed awkward and didn't," Ginny tried to explain.

"Or minutes that shouldn't have been awkward, but were," Neville added. "It wasn't that there was anything going on, but it felt like there should be."

"But there was this unspoken agreement that we just ignored the moments and didn't say anything."

"But clearly that changed at some point," prompted Percy.

"Well, yes, it did." Ginny and Neville smiled fondly at one another and clasped hands.

"But when did it change?"

"And how?"

Neville and Ginny shrugged at each other. "Touches started lasting a little too long. And smiles."

"Things that used to be comfortable, stopped being quite so comfortable." Ginny paused. "Sometimes I noticed he was looking at my mouth instead of my eyes."

"And sometimes her hand was on my shoulder or leg just a little too long for comfort. The awkwardness started to develop."

"And we avoided each other for a couple of days."

"It was painful."

"But it was what we did." They paused.

Percy looked bored. "And then?"

Neville grinned. "And then I took a chance. I kissed her. And waited."

"I was surprised. But I thought about it and it started making sense. And we've been happy since." Ginny smiled.

Fred and George pretended to throw up. "You guys are too sappy."

"Much."

"But we approve for the time being, right, George?"

"Right, Fred."

Ron glared at Neville and Ginny. "Relax, Ron, Ginny's a big girl and she can take care of herself," Hermione said softly, seeing her husband's clenched fist. "We're happy for you Gin."

Ginny felt a little relieved. Ron's reaction was to be expected. It _was _Ron after all. He was probably the most heated temper of all the kids, except maybe herself. And he was the second youngest; she was the only younger one for him to watch out for, and to top it off, she was the only girl. The twins seemed fine; they had long ago acknowledged that she could hold her own in a fight. They probably weren't thrilled to see their little sister dating anybody, but they acknowledged that he was an alright guy. Hermione didn't seem completely surprised. She turned her attention to her other brothers. Tonks was leaning on Charlie. Bill and Charlie didn't seem too upset. They understood that she was old enough to decide when and who to date. But at the same time, she was still their baby sister. She would _always_ be the baby sister, whether she wanted to or not.

"Neville, we don't know you well enough to make any sort of decision, but you seem like a decent guy."

"However, as her oldest brothers, Charlie and I want you to know that if you mistreat her, we're coming after you."

"And I have connections in Romania with people who can get me a dragon," added Charlie.

They had done their brotherly duty and threatened her boyfriend with just the right levels of levity and seriousness. Percy nodded once at Neville and once at Ginny. He wasn't going to say anything against Neville; Neville seemed a decent young man. He wouldn't cause any bad publicity and seemed the gentlemanly-sort. To top it off, he came from a respected wizarding family; that wasn't important, but his upbringing by his grandmother meant he ought to know out to behave at any ministry functions Percy and Penny might invite them to.

Ginny glanced at her more or less adopted family. Josephine and Harry. Josephine smiled for the first time that evening, as though she'd finally put the last pieces together in a puzzle. Maybe she had. Maybe she had guessed that Neville and she were going out. Maybe not. Maybe she was just glad she could soon get away from her sister. Harry seemed confused and a little surprised, but didn't share Ron's angry expression. "I'm happy for you, Neville. And you, Ginny. A little surprised, but…if you're happy, then great." And he _meant _it. He looked down at Jo. The look on her face said, _I'm not surprised one bit_. _I told you Neville was serious about somebody._ He looked over to see Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's reaction.

"Best friends make the best relationships," Mrs. Weasley said, squeezing Mr. Weasley's hand.

"That's right. I'm glad to see Ginny's got such a nice young man. We trust your judgment, Ginny; he _is_ a nice young man?"

"Yeah, Dad, he is." They were making too big a deal out of this. They were just dating. But it was nice knowing she wasn't going to have to sneak around anymore.

* * *

Harry and Josephine went upstairs. They past by her door and continued to the attic. It was late; it had taken a while for the gathering to break up. Everyone stuck around and chatted for awhile, catching up with each other's lives. Mrs. Weasley pressed Bill about his engagement, and wanted to know more about Tonks and Charlie's plans. Eventually everyone went back to their own homes.

As they climbed the last set of stairs, Harry asked, "So you really knew?"

"No. But I wasn't surprised. It made sense. Besides that, they seem great together."

Harry sat down at his table. "Does it seem strange to you? The way it happened?"

She sat on his bed and thought about it a minute. "Not really. You'd be surprised what one bold gesture can accomplish sometimes."

"I guess so." Harry tilted his head back against the chair, eyes have closed.

"Do you…" Josephine started.

"Hmm? Do I what?"

Josephine took a breath and let it out. "Do you want some ice cream? I was going to go down to the kitchen and get some."

"No, I'm alright. I'll probably sleep soon," Harry said, cracking his eyes open a little more.

"Alright. I probably will too. I shouldn't snack this time of night anyway. Good night, Harry." She eased herself off the bed and past him to the stairs.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Jo."

"Tomorrow." She waved as she left.

One bold move was all it took for Neville, Harry mused. Neville Longbottom. Who would have thought it?

* * *

**Author's Note:** So I got as far as Percy asking what exactly changed, and I've been stuck there for several weeks. I finally figured out just how they got together, so now the chapter is here and hopefully more should go up soon!


	34. Saturday

**Disclaimer:** Characters and settings are trademark of the fabulous Joanne Kathleen Rowling as always. I make no money off of this, though she could loan the queen pocket change it seems. Jo Clearwater is still my own, but the way she behaves, do you really think I want her? Well, maybe I do. She's fun, isn't she? Enough with the jokes and on to the show.

**Author's Note:** After a long long time, here it goes. I went through and reread my entire story, edited it. I haven't reuploaded all the chapters to fix the typos yet (maybe I did, can't remember I'll have to check, I edited back in May). The only really significant change was to Harry's teaching schedule. Originally I had him scheduled to teach the 15 students pretty much one at a time and no one got more than a couple hours a week. That just really didn't make any sense. So now he's got morning classes and afternoon classes, divvied up by age and theoretically by skill level, classes of no more than 5. Hobey ho, let's go. And brownie points if you know who I'm quoting.

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Chapter 34: Saturday

* * *

Harry wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, and sat down against the wall. His whole body ached from laying cinderblocks all morning. He watched Charlie and Tonks, working side by side about twenty feet from him. Bill, Fred, George, and Ron had come to pitch in today as well. It seemed that by mid-afternoon the walls would be completed on the twelve bedrooms planned for the second floor, and the doors up. The initial coat of primer was already on the walls of the bedrooms earmarked for Remus, John, Leonard, and Samuel. Harry doubted that Remus planned to give up his home in favor of permanent residence here, but at least in the early stages he would come and stay, lending moral and literal support to the others. Aside from needing the Wolfsbane potion—which they didn't have yet anyway—there was no reason for Remus to have to be in a place like what they intended werewolf home to become. He had a full education at Hogwarts and had been taking care of himself for a long time. It was just discrimination and his transformations which held him back out in the wizarding world. If they could just get the laws changed…

"Hey, Harry, you alright?" Ron nudged him and offered a bottle of water. "You don't look so good, mate."

Harry took it, shaking his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He'd gotten a little wrapped up. "I'm fine. I was just thinking."

Ron slid down the wall and sat beside him. "About?"

He chuckled, taking a swig of water and passing the bottle back to Ron. "If I don't get up and get back to work, we'll never finish. You married an amazing woman, Ron."

Ron's eyes drifted towards where Hermione knelt, a large piece of paper rolled out in front of her as she ran her plans for the first floor past Remus, making notes and changes as they talked. "I know she is, mate. Some people dream big…she dreams big and knows how to get there when she wakes up. I don't know how she does it, she just…does. There's something about her. No matter how crazy an idea…her heart's always in the right place, and she's determined to see it through." Ron stood up, dusting off his jeans. "We ought to get working again. There's supposed to be some specialists in to do the plumbing for the bathroom on Monday."

Harry followed him and they started to work on one of the walls for the room Charlie and Tonks were working on.

"What are your big plans for this week? Re-shingle the roof back home? Add another floor to the place?" asked Ron, placing a block next to Harry's. "I think you've probably done just about everything else there at this point."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Not even close. I've really only worked on the attic. As a matter of fact, I think I have to do something about my table and chairs tomorrow. My students start on Monday. I got books and supplies, but I haven't really started my lesson plans yet. I guess I better look into the materials I got and see what I can do with them."

Ron shot him a look. "You haven't started your lesson plans? Just how many students do you have?"

He tried to remember the schedule he drew up. "Fifteen I think. Classes of no more than five each, separated by age. Each lesson is an hour. I think I've pretty much got seven and older in the mornings, and five and six in the afternoons. Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday are English and Math. Tuesday I teach Muggle Studies and Geography, and I get a long break in the afternoon."

"Don't take this the wrong way or anything, but when is the last time you spent time with kids that young? A decent amount of time I mean."

Harry frowned. "John is nine; I've spent time with him this week."

"But half a dozen little running and screaming five year olds is another story altogether. I don't think you really know what you're getting yourself into."

"There's nowhere for them to run, Ron. It's the attic. Besides, it's not half a dozen…only five. It's only 8-10 hours a week per student, depending on whether or not they're taking Geography and Muggle studies. In Muggle schools we had class maybe seven hours a day, five days a week. They should be able to handle eight or ten."

Ron just shook his head. "I've watched kids that age, Harry. My parents aren't the only Weasleys with a big a family. You're going to have your work cut out for you."

Harry just shrugged. "We'll see." He did have a lot to do. He'd arranged their schedule by age, but age might not coincide with their skill level, depending on how much they'd already learned. At this point, he had no way of knowing what kids knew their ABC's or which had never put a pencil to a piece of paper before. Harry looked around for Leo, wondering how he and Remus had managed giving John any sort of lessons since he had found his way to them.

As Harry set off down the hallway to speak to Leo (it really was beginning to look like a hallway, with rooms on both sides), Hermione made her way over to Ron, taking his hand. Standing together, they looked around at the walls standing firm where a week ago had only been empty space, and at all the people transforming that space into a home. "This whole thing is going to have a really long road ahead of us, Ron."

Ron nodded, squeezing her hand. "I know. We'll get there together. We can make this happen," he said quietly, kissing her on the forehead.

Standing there with him, all she could think to do was wrap her arms around him, never wanting to let go, knowing that he had faith in her. She knew that he'd stand by her no matter how long this took.

* * *

Harry's eyes were sore and his neck cramped. He'd been staring at these books for hours and couldn't think of where to really begin. What was a kid supposed to know at seven? Nine? Five? It was almost easier with the five year olds and six year olds. He was pretty much going to assume that they had never set so much as a toe in a classroom before and that most anything he told them, they were hearing for the first time. He needed a chalkboard or something to write on during the lessons. He'd have to go out tomorrow and pick one up. Glancing at the clock Josephine had given him, he tried to figure out how long he'd been working on his plans. He'd been at it nearly since he came home from the werewolf house this afternoon and didn't feel like he'd gotten far at all.

The trouble was, he really couldn't draw up set of lesson plans until he knew the skill levels of his students. On the other hand, he couldn't just stare blankly at them and expect them to telepathically inform him of everything they didn't know. He needed some sort of ruler he could measure them against.

Lost in thought, he missed the sound of his stairs opening and the footsteps coming up them. He was startled when someone placed a hand on his shoulder. "Harry?"

He jumped a bit in his seat, turning around, recognizing the voice. "Jo. What are you doing up here?"

She placed the plate she was carrying on the table, somehow finding space amongst the books, and slid into the seat beside his. "I was worried about you. You never came down for dinner. I haven't seen you since we came back from the werewolf home today. Are you alright? You seemed a little preoccupied earlier."

He rubbed his eyes, feeling bleary. "I start teaching on Monday and I don't know what I'm going to do. That's the day after tomorrow—I ought to know by this point what I'm doing. Aside from not really knowing what I'm going to teach, I still haven't done anything with this table and the chairs—not that the students'll care about that. I don't have a chalkboard to write on. I don't have any sort of background on what the kids have learned by this point or haven't."

Jo patted his back in an attempt to be soothing. He winced, still sore from the last several days of laboring on the cinderblock walls. "What you need is a good night's sleep. Things will look better in the morning, you'll see."

Harry tried to stifle a yawn. He'd really lost all track of time. He shook his head, staring at the books in front of him. "I'm not sure I could sleep now if I tried."

She nudged the plate towards him as she stood up. "Eat. I'll bring you something to drink. I'm sure you'll feel a lot better after you get some rest."

"Doubt it."

Jo ignored his comment, heading back down into the main part of the household. She stopped in her room, picking up a small vial and taking it with her to the kitchen. She emptied its contents into the cranberry juice she poured for him, mixing it with a spoon just to be sure. Cranberry juice ought to mask the taste. She dropped the spoon in the sink with a clatter as she heard someone say, "Good night, Josephine," behind her.

She turned around, caught off-guard. "Hello, Mr. Weasley. I thought you'd gone upstairs."

Arthur looked at her curiously. "I did, but I left the newspaper down here earlier and I haven't finished it yet. Is Harry alright?"

She nodded, still clutching the glass in her hand, the little clear vial sitting on the counter. "He will be. He's just a under a little bit of stress right now. Things will be better in the morning after he's had some sleep I think."

Arthur nodded, not pressing the issue further, watching her and pointedly not looking at the vial on the counter. "Sleep well."

"I will, Mr. Weasley." She set the glass down on the counter, reaching for a napkin and tucking it into her pocket along with the empty vial. Picking the glass up again, she said goodnight and made her way back upstairs to Harry's room. Harry was making notes in a notebook while he ate.

* * *

Harry woke up, feeling groggy, the sun shining brightly through his little windows. It had to be after twelve. When was the last time he'd slept this late or for this many hours? As his eyes adjusted to the brightness of being awake, he became aware that things were out of place.

His dinner plate was gone, though he couldn't remember removing it. There were large wrapped packages standing vertically. There weren't the right number of chairs at the table. Something else was wrong too. With the constant tapping in the background, he couldn't seem to think straight. Maybe there was a woodpecker at the door.

He reached for his glasses as he got out of bed and more or less made it to his door by putting one foot in front of the other. He opened the door to his broom landing, hoping the fresh air might do him some good. He stood outside for a few minutes, just breathing. He had way too much to do today. He had to get started; come 9:00 tomorrow morning he'd have students to deal with.

"Good morning!"

A strangled shout of alarm died in Harry's throat as he sputtered, "What the bloody hell are you doing in my room?"

Jo had a hard time stifling her yawn as she responded, "I thought that'd be obvious. I'm helping you finish your work. I've been up all night so that you could get some sleep."

Harry sat back down on his bed, looking around the room and waiting for further explanation from her.

She stood there uneasily, wondering if just maybe she had crossed a line or two that she shouldn't have. If she did, it was too late to do anything about it now. All she could do was hope he appreciated her efforts and then try to get some sleep herself. "You were in a distracted funk all yesterday afternoon and last night. When I came up to check on you and bring you up a plate of dinner, you were completely stressed out over everything that needs to be ready for tomorrow. You didn't think you could sleep if you tried." She bit her lip, and continued on. "There's your chalkboard, standing up behind the table, wrapped in the purple bow. I got chalk and erasers while I was at it. The package with the green ribbons is a set of freestanding panels, to separate your bed area from your classroom area while you've got students here. Luna left a few hours ago. She helped me sand and stain the table with what supplies you had left from working on our rooms. We picked up some fabric too, and I've been taking the chairs apart and putting the new fabric on. It matches your damn curtains." She took a step forward. "_That_ is what I have been doing in your room. If you'll excuse me, I'm ready to pass out myself. I'm going downstairs and going to bed." She turned away from him and toward the staircase leading back down into the house. She might just get away with it.

He tried to remember. He still couldn't remember actually going to bed last night. He'd been touchy and irritable when she brought him dinner. He remembered that. He couldn't remember really finishing it though. "Jo," he said quietly. She stopped. "How exactly did you get me to go to sleep last night?"

She turned around and he could see her eyes, red, with dark circles under them from staying up too long. "Does it matter?"

"Humor me."

She sighed. "I drugged your cranberry juice with a little sleeping draught. Your were so damn wound up last night, Potter, you needed it. Said you couldn't sleep if you tried. Gave you that and you didn't even have to try. Your lesson plans are fine; nobody expects you to teach on the first day. Just figure out where their skill levels are at—you can't plan anything else until you know. I finished covering the last chair when you were waking up, but I haven't stained them or sanded or anything. I'm going to bed _now_. Goodnight." She disappeared down the stairs, leaving Harry to look around at all the work she'd done.

He walked around the room, stunned. She'd put more than twelve hours of work in up here. Okay, she'd drugged him. That was bad. She'd done it for a good reason though. He saw where she moved his stack of lesson planners and textbooks. She'd made notes; in the light of day, his plans didn't look nearly as bad as they had seemed last night. Maybe, with a fresh perspective on things, he really was going to be able to pull this off.

* * *

Remus stared out the window as the sun was setting. Tuesday night would be the full moon. He wondered how many nights he'd stared up at the moon, praying that maybe this month it wouldn't come? Useless, and childish. He and the others would spend Tuesday night in the werewolf home. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Here's your tea."

He shook himself out of his reverie. "Thank you, Hermione."

She seated herself on the sofa beside him. "I was thinking about the potion again."

Remus shook his head. "Hermione, you're going to wear yourself out. I don't personally know a single wizard, other than Severus Snape who can brew it. Even if we could find Severus, I highly doubt he'd be willing to make the potion for one werewolf again, let alone four."

She looked at him; he looked older and more worn out than ever, and he was worried about her being tired out. That was just like Remus. Thinking about everyone but himself. "I'm contacting a few people. I'm going to do everything I can to push anything I can through the Ministry as quickly as I can, but I don't know how much help we can get from them. I was thinking that we ought to try and grow some of the ingredients ourselves. We have enough space. I'm going to talk to Neville and see if he has any of them growing in his nursery right now. There should be at least a few of the more common ones and maybe even a couple of the rarer ones. I'm also going to write to Damocles Belby and see if I can enlist his help or if he knows anyone who might be able and interested." She decided not to mention her far-fetched attempt to find Snape. She just hoped Fawkes didn't fail her.

Remus frowned as though trying to remember something. "Belby…the inventor of the Wolfsbane potion?"

She nodded, calmly. "It makes sense. If he isn't willing to make it himself, there a good chance he can point us in the direction of someone who would be willing to make it for us, or would at least be able to make it. I intend to learn, but I don't know how long that's going to take. I'd rather learn it from a Potion's master who knows what he's doing, and not out of a book. Getting this potion wrong is too dangerous."

He wasn't sure what to say. Hermione was really first since Dumbledore to take a truly assertive interest in the cause. "Thank you."


	35. Lost and Found

**Disclaimer:** You know the drill. Pretty much anything I wish was mine, isn't.

**Author's Note: **Bonus points to Red Bess Rackham for recognizing my DJ MacHale reference in the last author's note. Not going to put a lot of preamble here, so let's just get on with the show. And reviews always make me smile… *nudge nudge*

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Chapter 35: Lost and Found

* * *

Severus Snape glared long and hard at the bird before him; if looks could kill, even that phoenix wouldn't be standing there. How the hell had Albus's bloody bag of feathers tracked him down here? He thought he was far enough away from everyone, anyone associated with his old life that even Albus—the busy-body—Dumbledore wouldn't be able to find him again. It just wasn't fair. How many more years of his life did he owe this man? Hadn't he already given him enough? Did he not deserve some element of peace?

Fawkes leaned in, nipping painfully at Severus's ear, as though to remind him, "I'm here, I have mail for you, and I'm not leaving until you've taken this letter."

Severus glared again, wishing he could set fire to the thing. Putting a hand up to his bleeding ear, he reached out with the other to untie the letter from the bird's ankle. "You can go now."

The stupid phoenix didn't move.

"Going to sit and watch me read it, are you?" he hissed. "Fine," he breathed. He looked distastefully at the envelope. This was Albus's bird but this was not Albus's handwriting. He knew well whose hand it was. He'd read enough miles of her essays. He would never forget the handwriting as long as he lived. The sight of his first name written across the front of the envelope in the hand of a student felt as though it were an offense to his eyes. Especially since he never wanted to hear from her ever again. He quite seriously considered tossing it. The damn bird wouldn't leave. "If I throw this out you're going to tell _him_, aren't you?" he hissed. He reached for a knife, not even bothering to wipe the plant residue from it before slicing open the envelope. Sneer still plastered on his face, he unfolded the letter, scanning through the lines, wondering what the Granger brat had to say.

_Severus Snape,_

_You've been gone for some time now, but apparently not long enough to nurse all your wounds, or you would be back among us. _

He snorted. As if he'd ever want to be back around those people again. Students. Dumbledore. The idiotic wizarding community at large. And what did she think? That he was lying in a cave, licking an injured paw until he felt healthy again. Hardly. Besides, the stone walls were exceedingly well suited to his personality.

_Your expertise in potion making is not easily matched._

He almost laughed at her attempt at flattery. Those words were an understatement if ever he'd read one. If she was writing to him, she was asking something of him. She had to do a lot better than that.

_I have four werewolves I have promised to care for—werewolves that need Wolfsbane potion. It is too late this month, but I resolve to at least make an attempt for the next. I don't have your talent for potion making but if you'll work with me just for a month or two to make sure I'm doing things right, it would mean a great deal and you'd be helping Remus Lupin and three other lycanthropes—one not more than a small boy._

A small boy? It was the best time to learn that the world was cruel. Then there'd never be an expectation for fairness. Besides, what was she doing taking on responsibilities she obviously couldn't handle? She'd have to face the consequences of her actions.

_Please come back. I'm not difficult to find. I need your help; I can't do this on my own. Contrary to popular belief, I am not a know-it-all. Albus knows where I am and how to reach me._

_As ever,_

_Hermione Granger_

Apparently Miss Granger had learned some humility if she was able to admit her inferiorities. Still, he wasn't coming out of hiding for that. Not to help her. Or Lupin. Why did she even think throwing his name in there would do her a damn bit of good? And claiming not to be a know-it-all! There went whatever humility he thought she might have grown. Of course Albus could reach her. As evidenced from the bird that had arrived and wouldn't leave him alone, Albus could reach anyone apparently.

He raised an eyebrow at the final word. He'd be surprised if that was still her surname. He was sure by now she and the Weasley brat would have at least a couple of children. Then again, he wasn't exactly keeping track of the days here. "What are you still doing here? I read bloody letter. What more do you want?"

Somehow, Fawkes managed to have an annoyed look on his face. Severus wasn't sure how a bird could manage to convey such a facial expression, but it seemed Fawkes in fact could. He took a stick of charcoal and, crumpling the letter in his other hand, wrote on the back of the envelope a single word.

_NO._

He retied the envelope to the bird's leg and gripped it by the ankle for a moment, "Now be gone with you. Never bother me here again." Severus Snape found himself cut off midsentence as he felt a jerking sensation in the neighborhood of his navel, and the world spun around him.

He emerged most inelegantly on the floor of Albus's office, one leg twisted beneath him at an awkward angled. The old man was sitting at his desk, head bent over a stack of papers. The phoenix settled on his shoulder, cooing. Albus looked up over his half-moon spectacles, staring at the man on the ground before him. He looked mildly surprised, "Good morning, Severus. I had not anticipated the pleasure of your company this evening. I can call for one of those house elves to bring something up if you'd like anything."

Severus gritted his teeth. "I hadn't expected so either. I'd like nothing more right now than to return home. And to have you deliver the short missive I've attached for Miss Granger, with the additional reminded that I'd like neither she nor anyone else to contact me again."

Albus tilted his head. "She doesn't go by the name Granger any longer. She's Mrs. Ronald Weasley now."

Severus Snape resisted the strong desire he felt to roll his eyes. Of everything he had said, _that_ is what Albus chose to respond to? For all Severus cared the girl could be calling herself Hermione Malfoy. Then again, even he might sit up and take notice of that. Probably not…but he might. "She signed her letter 'Hermione Granger'. Frankly I don't give a knut what she's called so long as she stays far away from me. I've no desire to help her better the life of Lupin or anyone else. I'd like to get back to my research as quickly as possible and never set foot here again."

Albus stood, slightly bent over. He looked older than Severus remembered him. Not so much in his face or hair, but in the way he held himself. He was a man whose years might finally be catching up to him. "You don't seem to be in a position to set foot anywhere just now, Severus. If I am not mistaken, you appear to be suffering a break somewhere around your kneecap."

"Your bag of feathers dropped me on a stone floor," he commented dryly.

Albus shrugged. "Be that as it may, I can't see you going far today. I'll have a couple of house-elves escort you to the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey should be able to see to you."

Internally, Severus shuddered. He pictured himself walking down the hallway, limping, a little green house-elf on each side supporting him. No. No. "I'd rather not."

The old man nodded. "Minerva is due up here for a meeting in a few moments. I'm sure she wouldn't mind delaying it in favor of assisting you. Tell me, Severus, how have you been keeping busy?"

Severus bit his lip until it nearly bled. He was sprawled across this man's floor in a most undignified fashion, practically kidnapped by a bird, probably at his request, and he was asking about his present hobbies. He reached up to flake away some of the now drying blood on his ear. His voice oozed sarcasm. "The same as ever, Albus, minus of course, any human contact or actions as a double agent. It's been an absolute picnic."

The Headmaster closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair. "Have you given any thought to Hermione's request?"

"My answer is on the back of the envelope. I think it suffices."

Albus looked at the envelope, hanging over his shoulder, the single word on the back clearly visible. "She isn't asking for much, Severus."

He glared, still on the floor. He had considered getting up several times, but it wasn't worth the risk of stumbling or looking weaker. "Have you read this letter?" Snape was still clutching it in his hand. He threw the balled up page onto the headmaster's desk.

"I haven't, and I don't feel the need to read it, Severus. I highly doubt that the Hermione Granger both you and I knew well would ask you for much. She wants to create something strong that will eventually be able to stand on its own. I hardly expect that she would ask you to chain yourself to a cauldron at her mercy for months on end. More likely I would assume she's asking for your assistance in learning the correct techniques. A teacher such as yourself could accomplish this in no more than a month or two I am sure," Albus told him, his voice calm and reasonable.

Severus felt the bile rise in his throat. "A month or two working with her, with Potter and Weasley around I'm certain, would feel as though I was being tortured and chained to a cauldron for months. I won't do it. You're not holding a damn thing over my head that can make me do it."

Albus shook his head, the look on his face a little sad. "No, I can't, Severus. Though I do think you ought to consider it. She has always been a persistent woman. She is determined to do what she can to help lycanthropes and I'd hate to see a potion go awry and harm someone."

Severus crossed his arms and attempted to slowly right the angle of his leg. He grimaced. It just wasn't going to happen right this moment. "Don't try to guilt me into this, Albus. It isn't going to work. I refuse to allow you to do it."

Dumbledore stood slowly, walking around his desk, offering a hand to help Severus stand up. "If not you, you do know who it is she can turn to. They might not have your touch, but surely you know another potions master as apt as yourself for the task."

Before Snape could formulate a snarky response, there was knocking at the door and Albus bid the guest to come in. It was Minerva, ready to discuss some problems they had been having with some of the second year students in her house. "Severus!"

He growled. Just perfect. Of course Minerva had to walk in while he was still sprawled over the floor. "Hello, Minerva."

Minerva McGonagall, still as button-down as ever, gathered herself quickly. "Good morning, Severus." She and Albus each extended a hand and he grudgingly accepted, having to lean a good portion of his weight on the woman.

He grimaced.

"We're going to get Severus to the hospital wing, Minerva, and then you and I can discuss the problem the Botts boy and Flores boy have been having in your class." The three of them made their way to the hospital wing. For Severus every step was emotionally and physically painful.

"What brings you here this evening, Severus?"

"A mistake I'm sure from a phoenix sending a message. The bird apparated back here with my hand still attached to its ankle. I preferred not to let my hand wander off without me," he responded dryly.

Minerva looked at Albus as if for confirmation. "I assure you, Minerva, I gave Fawkes no such instructions. I merely instructed him to return in a month's time if he was unable to deliver the missive that was entrusted to him."

The rest of the walk continued in silence, Severus gritting his teeth and praying to Merlin to get out of this school without seeing anyone else he knew. He doubted he'd be so lucky if the old man had anything to do with it. They ought to just kill him now and be done with it.

* * *

Harry paced back and forward. He had about twenty minutes more until his first students arrived. Maybe he was in way over his head. He had seven and eight year olds coming in for English first thing this morning, followed by the same age group for math, and then the nine and ten year old math class before lunch. Then the little ones after lunch. He could very well be doomed.

He'd made class lists for each of his lessons. His seven to eight year old English class consisted of Abigail McGonagall, John Perks, and Tom Stebbins. McGonagall. He looked over his seats again, the table cleared off, screens set up to block off his sleep area. Things seemed about as ready as he could make them. All that was left was to wait.

By nine o'clock, all three students had arrived. They felt so…short. So young. Where was he even going to start? He cleared his throat, a little nervously. "Hi. If you all want to sit, there are chairs for you. I'm your teacher. Why don't all of you introduce yourself to one another. Say your name and something fun about yourself."

John wrinkled his nose at the idea. Harry wasn't sure if that meant he didn't like it, or didn't understand. "Like what?"

"Well, I could say, hello, my name is Harry, and I like to fly."

Abigail raised her hand and volunteered. "Well, my name is Abby and I like to paint."

Harry smiled. "You do? What do you like to paint?"

She tugged on one of her peach colored pigtails. "Pictures. I like listening to stories and making pictures for them."

"Good. What about one of you? What do you like?" Maybe he could do this.

* * *

Nine a.m. sharp saw Hermione waiting for the doors of the nursery to open with a list in her hand. Remus was waiting for the plumbing specialists at the halfway house. Things were moving along. She just needed them to move faster…and more efficiently. She would have to make sure she spent more time in Penny's office. She needed to get this all off the ground before she could really start lobbying for legislative change. And she needed to work on the twins' books again. She felt a tap on her shoulder. "Morning, Hermione."

"Oh, hi, Neville."

He juggled a bag of fertilizer on his shoulder, a potted plant tucked under his arm, and reached for the keys in his pocket, slipping them into the door and nudging it with his shoulder. "Welcome to the nursery—no crying, no diapers, and no cooing over the newborns." He grins, still holding the potted plant in the crook of his elbow as he set down the back of fertilizer by the door.

Hermione looked around. She was definitely in here with the youngest plants. At least thirty varieties, some hanging, others potted down in the soil, some grown in water.

Neville looked around, on hand on his hip, the other holding the plant he'd came in with, looking at the nursery like a proud father. "I've been thinking about hiring extra help for some of the more grown plants, but the sprouts, are just so delicate…" He shook his head. "I'm sure you didn't just come in today to watch me talk about the plants. What can I do for you?"

Hermione handed him her list. "These are most of the ingredients in the Wolfsbane potion. I was hoping that there'd be some that we can purchase for the werewolf home. We've got plenty of space—we could plant them, grow our own supplies when we finally get a potions master in to brew the potion for our residents…"

Neville took the list, scanning it over. "Well I could probably get half the list straight out of my inventory. There's several other items on here that I could probably call around and see if I can find them from some of my suppliers."

"That's fantastic. I mean, I know it's going to be really hard to find someone willing to make the potion, so I figure it's best to have as few other complications or difficulties as possible with it. Having supplies ready seems to be the logical choice. I sent a letter last night to the man who invented the potion but my hopes for a response there aren't exactly high, but I had to try—I had to try something." Hermione became vaguely aware that she was babbling and clamped her lips shut.

Neville nodded, smiling. He snapped his fingers and a trolley drifted over towards them. "Let's check on what I've got. What age plants exactly are you looking for? Small, easy to transport, but they're going to need a lot of time to grow, or something big that's just ready to go?"

"Let's mix it up. I'd like some that could be used as soon as we find someone, but since there will probably be plenty of time, I wouldn't be opposed to some of the younger plants—plant them and give them time and space to grow."

Neville walked her through the different sections of the greenhouses he had, picking up the plants from her list with care, placing them on the trolley.

* * *

Remus rubbed his temples and sat down on the staircase. The men Hermione had contacted were getting to work on the plumbing upstairs. John was sitting in the corner, working through some subtraction exercises Remus had set for him earlier. Samuel and Leo were tilling the soil out back, getting it ready for whatever plants Hermione brought back from her excursion to Neville's nursery. Remus just needed to rest for a few minutes; he could feel the strain. The full moon was so close.

He opened his eyes, looking at the floor. There was a beak pecking at his calf. It took a moment for his thoughts to pull together. Fawkes was pecking at his leg. He took the letter. It was addressed to Hermione. "She's not here right now. I'll give it to her as soon as she gets back."

The phoenix must have been satisfied by the response, because he left.

Remus slipped the letter in his pocket, reminding himself to give to Hermione when she returned. Realizing he wasn't going to get any more rest that moment, he went to go see how John was getting along with his math.

* * *

Severus Snape was grateful of one very small thing. It was shortly before lunch when they arrived at the hospital wing; the hallways were mercifully empty of students. He had to give Madam Pomfrey credit; she didn't flinch at the sight of him. She hardly looked surprised. Maybe she didn't recognize him.

The nurse was as brisk and professional as ever. "That leg looks terrible, Albus, Minerva. You should have levitated him down here and not let any weight rest on it. Get in the bed." The nurse helped maneuver Severus into the nearest bed. She exposed his leg, looking at it. She wasn't sure the last time she'd seen skin so pale. She was certain that, if nothing else, he wasn't getting all of the vitamins he ought to; the man probably wasn't spending any time outdoors. At all.

Severus grimaced as the woman touched his leg. He'd felt plenty worse pain but nothing physically worse in some time. Albus and Minerva did not need to be here. "Didn't you two have somewhere else to be?"

Albus just smiled. Severus hated that smile. "Yes, we do have a meeting to get back to. Take care of him, Poppy. I don't want him out of that bed until you're certain he'll have no ill-effects."

Madam Pomfrey shooed Albus and Minerva from the room. "First things first, we're moving you to a bed nearer to some sunlight. You're clearly lacking in multiple vitamins—the quality of your hair and skin says as much. I'd bet a dozen sickles that some of those vitamins you're missing could come in if you'd only get a little sunlight. You're sickly thin, so I'm also ordering up a hearty meal—something heavy in starches, protein, and vegetables."

Severus narrowed his eyes at her. "I'm not ill. Fix my leg and I'll be on my way."

"You'll do as you're told." She levitated the mattress onto a bed nearer to the window where the sunlight could get at him and pulled the curtain back.

He squinted.

She pulled the curtains around his bed. "Stay here and I'll be back shortly with what I need to mend your leg, and I'll be sending out for something for you to eat."

Severus folded his arms. This was going to be a long day.


	36. Sowing the Seeds

**Disclaimer:** You know the drill. Pretty much anything I wish was mine, isn't.

**Author's Note: **I was a little apprehensive about putting up another chapter since the last one made me really nervous (I wasn't sure if Snape's reappearance was going to seem too out of the blue) and I didn't get a lot of feedback on it. Thanks to Hydraspit and LoireLoa for their comments. I really like this chapter, I was trying to make it longer than it is, but I really felt this was the cut off point for this chapter. I'll swing focus back around to Harry in the next one. I'm still working on figuring out where this story ends…there's so many plot threads going and I don't want to just tie them up in a bow and say, "Okay, done now!" Anyway, I'm totally babbling, but I hope everyone is having a good holiday and that this chapter brings a smile to somebody's face.

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**Chapter 36: Sowing the Seeds**

Hermione, laden with carefully written instructions from Neville, fertilizer, gardening tools, and an assortment of small plants, came into the lycanthrope halfway house, putting on a cheery face. She called out to see who was around and nearly crashed into Remus on the stairs. "How are things moving along?" Remus asked, smiling at her, reaching out to help relieve her of some of the objects.

Hermione could see the dark circles under his eyes, more prominent than the day before. "Neville had a lot of the ingredients on our list in stock. There are more that he's relatively certain he can get without trouble. Others are going to take a bit more work, but he's going to see what he can do. He's going to bring most of the plants in when he closes the shop for lunch; I just brought what I could carry for the time being. He's giving us a lot of the less common ones he had in stock at cost, and a lot of the more usual plants as an outright donation. I'm going to plant myself in front of Penny tomorrow to see about hooking this place up to the network. I mean, I know we still need a fireplace first, but I figure the more I get done without her, so I can show her progress is happening, and the more I make myself a presence in her office on a regular basis, the better off we'll be in getting the resources we need from her. How are things going here?" She looked around, not seeing anyone else.

"Well, the plumbing wizards are still working upstairs. They said they should be mostly done with the upstairs plumbing by the end of the day and they'll come back to finish it and do the downstairs tomorrow. They were quick to remind me that they're just taking care of fixtures and pipes and that they didn't sign on to do the cosmetics—of course, then one whipped out the business cards of three friends of his who are all in that end of the business. John was doing some math I set for him. He just went out to work on the garden for a while with Samuel and Leo. Things really are moving along."

_He looks so very tired_, she thought. "We are going to get there, Remus. We're going to make it. This will happen. It has to."

He tried to look reassured, knowing she'd do anything and everything she possibly could for the cause. "I know, Hermione." Remus helped her carry the gardening supplies outside where the others were working. Samuel was putting together a fence to border the garden to keep wildlife, gnomes, and anything else that shouldn't be in out. Leo was tilling up the soil, getting it ready for planting. John, standing beside Samuel and handing him things as he went along, was talking animatedly.

"And did you know that there's this big castle? And a funny old man with a beard long enough to tuck in his belt! I saw a picture at Remus's—hi, Hermione!"

Samuel was smiling and nodding. It was good to see the little boy's spirits up.

Hermione smiled at him. "Hi, John, Samuel, Leo." As she started wandering through the garden area, mentally spacing the partitions for different sections, setting down plants at intervals, Remus suddenly remembered about the letter.

"This came for you a couple of hours ago." He brought the letter out of his pocket and handed it over. "I'd forgotten about it when you came in."

_Dear Hermione Weasley,_

_ Severus Snape appeared in my office this morning with a response to your query. His answer was, most regrettably, negative. However, circumstances have, at present, delayed him at Hogwarts for the time being. Should you care to voice your request again, in person, he can be found at the hospital wing under the care of Madam Pomfrey. While I realize the trip would be out of your way at a time I am sure is very busy, I have a feeling persistence is usually worth the effort and that that may very well prove to be the case in this instance._

_Yours Truly,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Snape? He'd managed to find Snape? And get him to Hogwarts? She had to go…right now. Before Severus could try to slither out of there. She frowned. She smelled like dirt, and manure, and green things. She ought to shower first, or at least put on robes. Robes might make a better impression on Snape—and whatever she could do to make it listen to reason and help where he could in regards to this was alright with her. She'd go home, change, and be at Hogwarts as soon as she could. She lowered her voice so only Remus could hear. "I've got to go—this could be good news. I don't want to say anymore and get anyone's hopes up if it doesn't work yet, but this might just be it!"

Remus stared. "Damocles Belby answered your letter already?"

She shook her head. "No. But someone else did. I've got to go. I can't guarantee he'll stay in one place long enough for me to get there if I don't go now. I'll send word as soon as I know anything." She looked at the others, "I'll be back as soon as I can!" She Disapperated.

Forty-five minutes later, Hermione Weasley, dressed in clean, semi-dressy, black wizarding robes (but still smelling faintly of Neville's nursery), was walking out of Hogsmeade towards Hogwarts. She was laying out her arguments and counter-arguments for Snape. He was a reasonable man. He would no doubt see that this would be beneficial to a lot of people—that didn't necessarily mean he'd do it, but he'd be able to see that. Maybe that wouldn't be the best tactic.

The brisk air helped her process her thoughts a little better. She'd have to make sure Samuel and Leo and John had warm clothing for the onset of winter and if they didn't she'd have to see to it that they got some. And they'd need to get some sort of tile and paint into the bathrooms so they could be finished. And there was the Floo network connection to take care of. And building a fireplace. And the whole downstairs. And furniture…

She entered the hospital wing with a large list of things she still wanted to accomplish and no clear idea exactly what she wanted to say to Snape. Well, it would come to her when she was in front of him she supposed.

"Madam Pomfrey?" She looked around for the mediwitch and didn't see her anywhere. "Madam Pomfrey?"

Snape opened his eyes and quickly shut them again. He'd shut them after Poppy had left his bedside—the room was too bloody bright. He knew that voice. Go away, just go away. Maybe if he didn't answer and Poppy couldn't hear her, she'd leave. Fat chance.

Hermione walked down the row of empty beds, striding purposefully, trying to exude a confidence that she was slowly losing grip of. She had to do this. But why was it that certain professors could always manage to make a person feel like a student again? Then again, she did come in to ask him to allow her to be his pupil again.

As she approached the final bed, curtains drawn around it, her pace slowed. She stopped at the foot of the bed, tugging the curtains gently open.

He didn't even both cracking an eye open. "Go away, Granger, I trust you already received my answer. Don't dispute it; just move on."

She straightened herself up to full height. "Actually, if you insist on calling me by my surname, _Professor_, it's Weasley. But really, I do think after all these years it might be alright to call me by my name."

Severus sigh. Didn't she ever give up? "I am not your professor. You are avoiding the conversation as it ought to go, _Weasley_. I will not waste my time teaching you to brew a potion that is clearly beyond your skill level. Feel free to ask again and I will say 'no' again, but you are wasting your time and mine."

"Well, you appear to be confined to a sickbed, so you must have time to spare—you can't go anywhere else, so you have to have this conversation with me. I am a very determined woman, _Severus_, and if you are not willing to spend some time teaching me for just two short months—after which I would leave you alone forever—I will do everything in my power to make life exceedingly difficult for you." She wasn't sure exactly what she could do at this point, but she always seemed to annoy him enough during Hogwarts; surely there must be a way to tap into that power now? "Clearly I've already found you once; I'm more than confident I can do it again, and again. I won't leave you alone."

He gave a dry laugh. "Do you honestly think threats about making life 'exceedingly difficult' for me are supposed to be persuasive? I've lived through hell and back, Weasley. I'm still here. I can't imagine a thing you could do to me that hasn't already been done, and worse. Humiliate me? Cause me physical pain? Psychological pain? Discomfort? I've faced demons you couldn't begin to comprehend, so do not for a single moment underestimate me, Weasley. Whatever leverage you think you can throw at me…it has as much weight as a quill in the breeze." He opened his eyes, shading them with the hand nearest to the window, looking at her. He sniffed the air experimentally. She'd been working with plants.

She needed _something_… "What is it you want most?"

"Nothing you can give me. I'm quite content with my life as-is, as soon as arrive home I've no intention of leaving again for quite some time." _And anything I might want isn't in your power or anyone else's to give._ He partially as though he ought to roll over and face the wall and not speak further to her, but it was never a good idea to turn one's back on an enemy; besides which, if he rolled over on to that side, he'd be lying on the knee Poppy still hadn't mended.

Her nostrils flared and she started towards the head of the bed. "All I'm asking for is two months. Really four would be reasonable—a month for us both to prepare, two months of practice, and a month to see if I've retained the knowledge correctly. However, I'm an excellent student and despite your _charming_ personality, you are a good teacher and an excellent potions master. You're one of the best there is. You have the natural knack for it, the patience for it—a patience you don't have with people certainly, the skill. I'm embarking on an immense project here to help others, and I am enough of an adult to say that I cannot do this on my own. I need help and I'm willing to admit it." Scowling at him, she gave a mock curtsey. "You win; you are still superior to me in potion-making. You probably always will be. But at least give me the opportunity to learn from the best."

He whispered, "And what possible benefit might I have from this? Losing months of researching time to simply help you on a pet project of which I want no part?"

"Ask. We're both reasonable individuals. If there's something you want that I can give you, name it."

She couldn't give him the things he desired most. She couldn't give him his youth back—without the abuse and humiliation. She couldn't give him his adult life back—to live freely without serving any masters, let alone two of them. She couldn't give him Lily Evans. She couldn't give him any of the things that mattered. So why should he give her a damn thing? Why should he care one whit about what she wanted or needed from him? Everyone always wanted something from him, whatever they could get. Even now, Dumbledore still itched to have him back and chained to the school for the rest of his life as the potions master. "There is one thing."

She tried not to get too excited, but she could feel it building inside her. "Which is?"

He wondered vaguely if he was shooting himself in the foot by even suggesting this. "I would like you to become my apprentice."

She blinked, asking slowly, "What are your terms?"

Severus met her gaze quite evenly, somewhat disgusted at himself for making the offer, but hopeful that perhaps, when this ordeal was over, he might get some peace. "I want Albus Dumbledore to relinquish the idea that I will ever deign to teach at Hogwarts again. You will learn whatever I say you need to learn—not just the Wolfsbane potion. Your studies will include some of the most difficult potions known. I intend to give Albus no reason to ever need or desire my services again. At the end of your apprenticeship I expect you to become the Potions master of Hogwarts if the position needs filling. You will arrive by 8 o'clock sharp and stay until 5 o'clock at night. In the event that ingredients need to be gathered in the evening hours you may be called upon to assist in order to further your learning experience. I expect you to report six days a week unless otherwise indicated. So as not to take away from my own valuable research time, you will assist me in my research. At this point I am unsure of how long this apprenticeship will last; it will depend on how quickly you are able to learn. If I am unsatisfied with your work I have the right to terminate the apprenticeship."

"Five days a week, and I want the Wolfsbane potion for the next full moon." She couldn't believe she'd just said that. She was giving him cheek, when he was offering a major opportunity, assuming they didn't kill one another in the process. Murder certainly was always a possibility.

His eyes narrowed. "Fetch parchment and a quill and we'll settle the terms in writing."

* * *

Harry let himself collapse on Jo's bed. She was sitting at her desk, working on editing an article about the werewolf house's progress, hoping to garner support for the project. He sighed. "That was a long day."

"Well, you survived, just have to do it…how many more times?"

He groaned. It was going to take some getting used to; he was used to a lot of peace and quiet up in the attic and now it was a schoolroom.

"Where did you want to go to lunch tomorrow?"

He pushed his hair out of his face. "Forgot tomorrow was Tuesday. You pick a place."

She gave a melodramatic sigh. "You always want me to do all the work. I was talking to Remus earlier. He said Hermione dashed out early and never came back. That's not like her, is it?"  
"Not generally, but she probably had a good reason. Maybe she went to go terrorize your sister." His eyes half closed, watching her at her desk as she tucked her hair behind her ear with a frown.

"What's a better word for 'persistent'? It doesn't fit."

"How about 'ongoing'?"

"Not quite."

"Continued?"

"No…still not it."

He sat up, irritated. "Give me the sentence then."

"If the lycanthrope halfway home is to be truly successful, _blank_ efforts need to be made by the Ministry to ensure its success."

"Sustained?"

She chuckled, scribbling it in and reading it again. "Perfect. Between the two of us we can manage one article."

He snorted, tossing a pillow at her head. "That's pathetic, Miss Reporter."

Jo wrinkled her nose. "That is kind of pathetic. But no need to point that out to me. I wanted a decent draft to show Hermione tomorrow so she can let me know if there's any new information I ought to add." She glanced at the window and said exactly what he was thinking. "Tomorrow's the full moon."

He nodded, silent. There didn't seem to be anything that needed saying. The words just hung there in the air, as if they were an approaching storm.

Jo pushed her chair away from the desk, coming over to sit on the bed beside him, head on his shoulder, mouth closed. After a moment, he put his arm around her, squeezing her shoulder.

"Every month, they go through this."

"I can't imagine it gets easier, no matter how many times they go through it." After that, the silence lasted until Mrs. Weasley called them down for dinner. As they walked down the stairs, Harry was surprised to find himself realizing that the silence wasn't awkward.

* * *

Hermione glanced down at the contract in her hand. It had been signed by Snape, as well as Dumbledore. The only signature missing was hers. All agreed upon points of the apprenticeship were clearly enumerated. She continued to pace. Ron was going to be home soon. This was going to be a big adjustment. She was going to be up early everyday and gone all day. Eight to four, five days a week, with the possibility of work on Saturdays and evenings. It was going to cut significantly into the time she could spend on the lycanthrope home, but in the long and short run it was really better for everyone concerned. She could still plan and still do what she could during the hours she wasn't working for Snape. She would not be getting paid; he said she was getting a free education. She would still have time to do the books for Fred and George. He would be providing all necessary ingredients for the potions and lunch. Her pacing quickened. She really wouldn't be kept out of the house hours that Ron was home, so that didn't worry her—he had his Auror training all day. What worried her more than her immediate absence from the lycanthrope home was the idea of becoming the Hogwarts potion master. She and Ron had long-term goals that she wasn't sure fit in there. How was this going to work?

She hardly heard the pop of imploding air indicating her husband's arrival over the sound of her own pacing. He crept up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, squeezing tight. "I'm home," he whispered.

She leaned back against him. They were going to make it work.


	37. Full

**Author's Note: **It's been a while I know, and this isn't as long as I was planning but I've got a fire going under me again and I know where the story is going. I know why I was having trouble writing and I'm excited to feel like it is on track again.

**Disclaimer: **Except for Jo Clearwater and a few select others…these aren't mine and I'm not profiting from them except in the smiles I get when I see reviews.

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**37: Full**

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Harry and Josephine sat at their table at 大高反店, groaning a little; they were stuffed. "I told you we didn't need two entrees—it's all family style food here." Harry pushed his hair out of his face. It was starting to get a little shaggy.

Jo sipped her green tea. "I could pick between the beef and the duck. This way, I didn't have to choose."

Harry signaled to the waitress for their check. "They were both fantastic. Next time I want to try the pork _baozi_ our waitress recommended." He paused, looking over at her, a little slumped in her chair. "Do you think you're up for anything this afternoon, or should I have a cot brought to the table for you to kip on?" He glanced at the bill the waitress brought.

"If you can roll me out the door I'm probably up for whatever you have in mind; I'm not sure I can move myself yet." Harry left his money on the table and stood up, putting out his hand to help Jo to her feet. She added, "Besides, we never repeat our Tuesday places."

He rolled his eyes. "It _is_ possible to eat out at times that aren't Tuesday afternoon."

"Blasphemous!" she declared. "What did you have in mind?"

He put on his jacket as they made their way out of the restaurant. "IT's the full moon tonight. I was going to head to the werewolf home and see if I can do anything to help." He held the door for her.

"I'm in. I had a story I was going to work on tonight but a good cause trumps journalism any day. I'm not sure what we can do, but I'll do it." She shoved her hands in her pockets, shivering in a gust of wind.

Wordlessly Harry shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to her.

Jo smiled gratefully, putting it on as they ambled down the street. They sidetracked into the park, speaking quietly, knowing there were words in the conversation not fit for Muggle ears.

"I wish I knew someone who could brew the wolfsbane potion. I feel helpless in that sense. They'll be battered and bruised tomorrow and all we can do is patch them up."

Jo sighed. "I think we're going to have to lean on my sister and others at the Ministry if we want to get anywhere with this."

"Amelia Bones seemed promising at that dinner we went to. Dumbledore will do what he can, though he might be a little more indirect than we'd like."

An older woman standing near them coughed to make her presence known. She was wearing a yellow dress and carrying a basket of daisies. Each daisy had a white ribbon tied around it. "Buy a pretty flower for your pretty girl?"

Harry almost corrected the woman, but he stopped himself. He dug in his pocket for the money and picked up a pink daisy. He grinned at Jo, giving a low and elaborate bow as he extended his arm towards her, holding the flower just below her face. They thanked the woman and she moved on—on a brisk Tuesday afternoon the park wasn't exactly crowded. Jo chuckled. Sticking the stem in one of the buttonholes on Harry's jacket she was still wearing, she asked, "Your girl, huh?"

He shook his head, a solemn expression on his face. "You misheard her—my _pretty_ girl." He grinned at her again and then looked back to the path. He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw her blush a little out of the corner of his eye, but he couldn't be certain. "Do you know anyone else at the Ministry who'd be on our side with this?"

"I have some contracts with groups outside the Ministry; I can look them up when we get home. I can check through my notes from Ministry meetings too, and see who else might have interested lined up with ours. Off the top of my head I can only name a handful. Why are we still walking?"

Harry brushed his hair out of his eyes. "Because it's good for you and I wanted to see how long I could make you do it before you insisted on Apperating home." He looked around. "No one near us. You want to do it, or should I?"

"I'll do it." She took hold of his hand and they Apperated to the garden in the backyard of the Burrow. "Did you have anything in mind with the werewolf house?"

"I figured on Owling Hermione to see if she needs anything and going over after I heard back." He opened the door for her and followed her in. He was halfway up the stairs before he remembered to let go of her hand. She slipped out of Harry's jacket and handed it back to him with a smile when they got to her room. He took the daisy out of the buttonhole and handed it back to her as she settled at her desk to start rifling through papers. He sat on the bed. "The woman in the park was funny today."

"Not the first time we've been mistaken for a couple and probably not the last."

"Probably not." He tried to sound casual, leaning his head against the wall and half closing his eyes. He had been thinking about this a lot lately, and he wasn't the only one. All of their friends seemed to think so… "Do you feel like we're dating?"

Jo didn't turn around to look at him. She was bent over her papers, pretending to look for hernotes. "Well, we spend our free time together, eat together, laugh together…"

Harry couldn't help laughing. "By that definition I was dating Ron for years."

She shrugged, eyes straying to the daisy on her desk. "Well, if you and Ron weren't dating, I'd say you and I aren't dating." She tossed him a pencil and a piece of parchment. "Check in with Hermione and see what she wants us to do."

* * *

Hermione paced anxiously. She'd be starting her apprenticeship on Monday with Snape. She was grateful Snape was willing to wait until Monday for her to start. She couldn't imagine missing tomorrow—she'd be going over at six to oversee the Medi-witches and help out where she could. She had to do the twins accounts this weekend. And she really needed to get herself another meeting with the Minister.

Ron sat up. "Hermione, c'mon back to bed. I'm cold."

She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself enough to sleep or at least enjoy being in Ron's arms. She climbed into bed and immediately Ron's arms reached out and pulled her close—he hadn't been asleep, he was watching her worry. With her back pressed to his chest, his arms tight around her, he whispered in her ear. "Relax. You need to sleep. It's all going to be alright." He stroked her hair, kissing her head. "Sleep."

* * *

Midnight found Harry and Jo settled onto a pile of blankets in the hallways of the werewolf home. Officially they were on the night shift, not that they could do much until sunrise. There was a good chance that Remus and the others probably wouldn't be up 'til afternoon. Harry had sent owls to his students, cancelling Wednesday's lessons—he wasn't expecting much sleep tonight. He could hear whimpers, banging on the walls, groans, and howling. He tossed and turned. He might have to nap during the day tomorrow in order to make it out to the Bouncing Ferret tomorrow night. Hermione had some big announcements to make.

"You could always put some magical earplugs in," Jo whispered, squeezing his hand. It didn't seem she was sleeping anymore than he was.

He shook his head. "I want to make sure I hear them as soon as they get up when they've changed back." Fresh clothes were already waiting, and towels and soap were in the bathroom. Breakfast would arrive in the morning. The Medi-witches would arrive early and stay until their services were no longer required.

* * *

When Harry woke up out of his fitiful sleep for the final time, he was still curled up next to Jo and comfortable enough there on the floor with her that he didn't want to get up. She was still holding his hand. The first thing he became aware of after that was the smell of breakfast. Coffee and muffins were on the table nearby. Hermione was sitting there, reading the morning paper. He disentangled himself from the blankets reluctantly, tucking them back around Jo and got up to join her. "How'd it go?" Hermione asked softly.

"They were screaming all night. I can't imagine they'll wake soon."

"I unlocked their doors. I don't want them to wake up and feel like prisoners. The Medi-witches will be here shortly. Do you need to leave to get ready for your classes?"

"I took the day off. I feel like I should be here."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but you look awful. Maybe you should go back to sleep."

Harry didn't respond, he just sat down at the table and poured a cup of coffee.

Hermione plunged on. "This should be the last month they have to do it like this. I found someone to make the potion. I'll announce it tonight, please don't say anything to anyone. Snape will teach me." Harry's mouth gaped like a fish out of water and no words came out. The words tumbled from Hermione's lips. "It's a long story but the short of it is, I'm going to be Snape's apprentice. It's going to cut down on the time I can spend here—only weekends and evenings—but it will keep Remus and the others from having to spend another month in this sort of pain."

Harry took a long, slow sip of his coffee. "Jo and I are going to lean on the Ministry this week. You need funding and a support staff and help getting the word out that this place exists. I'm sure there are others that need help."

"I think the legislation for their rights will come last, but I'll start lobbying as soon as I can. Until things really get moving, this might just have to be a private non-profit organization if we can't get what we need from the Ministry. I'm going to try and see Penelope as soon as I can."

A voice rose from the pile of blankets. "Between working for Snape and teaching classes, when are either of you going to have the time?"

There was no answer.


	38. Game Plan

**Chapter 38: Game Plan**

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**Disclaimer:** You know the drill, I don't own it, and the only reward I get is your reviews, which I'd love to have.

**Author's Note:** This is an exceptionally long chapter (10 pages single spaces) and the second half went through a lot of rewrites. I'm a little nervous to hear everyone's responses to it. I've been reading through my earlier chapters for editing. I hardly recognize this phase of the story from how it started. I'm hoping to end this story soon. If I keep the next couple of chapters long, we should end at chapter 40 I think. Working on finding a suitable stopping place. Thank you to everybody who's still reading this, I know it's been going on for a long time. Without further ado…

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Remus, Samuel, Leo, John, Hermione, Ron, Neville, Ginny, and Harry were in one of the private rooms at the Bouncing Ferret shortly at half past six that night. The Mediwitches had taken care of the lycanthropes until the only sign of their night's torture was the fatigue on their faces to show what they'd been through. There was no sign of Leo's dislocated shoulder, of the bruises John had received smashing himself against his walls, of where Samuel had torn gashes in his arms, or where Remus had repeatedly thrown himself at the door. Everyone had their drinks and was chatting quietly, waiting for Hermione to make her announcement. Ron nudged Harry. "Where's Jo? I thought she was coming with you."

"Following up on a lead. She'll be here in a while."

Hermione stood up, her face set with determination. "I guess it's time to start. The Minister isn't due to arrive until 7 and I have something I want to say before she does. Things are moving pretty quickly—more quickly than I'd dared hope when this started." She turned her attention to Remus, John, Samuel, and Leo. "Next month you _will_ have your Wolfsbane potion. I swear it. I'm apprenticing myself to the most skilled potions master I know. I'll be working 40 hours a week, sometimes more, so I may not be at the house much. I thought long and hard about this. I think this is the right decision. The kitchen still has a long way to go and we need to furnish your bedrooms and connect to the Floor network and make a fireplace and I know there's more I'm not thinking about right now, but you won't have to live another month like this."

There was a short silence and Remus asked in a quiet voice. "Does that mean you found Severus?"

"I found the most skilled potions master I have ever known." Snape hadn't wanted his name mentioned.

Harry took a sip of his pumpkin juice. He'd made his decision earlier and the gears were already in the works for putting it into effect. "I'm going to quit teaching. I already notified my students' families this afternoon. I'm going to spend my time over at the house and take over wherever Hermione can't be. I'm also going to bug the bloody hell out of Penelope Clearwater until things start moving and a decent speed."

The silence resumed again. It was a lot to take in—Harry and Hermione were both changing the course of their lives for this. Remus looked from one of them to the other. "Are you sure about this? Both of you? This is a really big decision…"

Harry and Hermione both nodded firmly. "We talked about this for a long time. This is the most effective way for us to do it. We're both committed." After separately thinking about the state of things all morning, the two of them had spent the afternoon closed off in a long discussion. Their present plan seemed to be in the best interests of everyone involved, including them. The skills Hermione was going to learn from Snape were going to be invaluable. Harry had liked the idea of teaching, but it didn't seem as necessary as doing whatever he could for Remus and the others. His students (if he could call them his after so short a time period) would find someone else to teach them—no one came to Hogwarts lacking basic reading and writing as far as he could tell. The important thing was to achieve the best combination of immediate and long-term change. To some extent, people would listen to him because he _was_ Harry Potter. He was willing to push and shove at the Ministry a little. Not to mention, it felt like he was in the right place. Managing all of this would be a long-term project with a lot to do. Hermione needed someone she could trust to do it without cutting corners or giving up partway through…Harry knew he was that person.

"We've decided. It's all set. I'll still need a lot of help from you, Remus, but we can make this work."

The table raised their glasses of various drinks in a toast to the future.

No sooner had they put their glasses down than Jo came in, a little out of breath from running up the stairs, but smiling. She settled into the chair next to Ginny and Ginny gave her a quick recap on what she'd missed. Jo didn't stand, but she raised her voice to look around at the table. "I just finished meeting with a member of the Wizengamot who wishes to remain anonymous…but his daughter was bitten by a werewolf nearly fifty years ago. He's planning to throw his support behind us as he can and make large, quiet donations as needed."

"Will his daughter be joining us?" asked Hermione.

Jo shook her head. "She died a few years after the bite…complications. But this member of the Wizengamot, he heard about what we were doing through Amelia Bones. He said if something like this existed back then…maybe his daughter would have had a chance."

John craned his neck to look at Josephine for a minute. Then he turned to look at Remus. "Am I going to die?"

Remus put his arms around the boy. "No, you'll be fine. Some people just…it's harder on some people. You're strong. You're going to be alright." The look on Remus's face was nothing but pain, but with his face pressed to Remus's chest, the boy couldn't see it. Thank, Merlin. To some degree, the longer you'd lived with lycanthropy, the stronger you got. Your body got used to the changes, worn down by them, though they were always excruciatingly painful. But your body toughened like leather in the sun. In other ways it fatigued and stretched and stressed the body in ways it should never be subjected to on a regular basis. Bodies that couldn't adapt to it didn't last long. It didn't sound as though this girl's body had adapted. It was also possible that her health had been poor to start with.

The table was subdued. There were small victories here tonight, yes, but there was no cure. They might win battles, but was this a war that they could ever win?

The more formal part of the evening, beginning at seven, included the arrival of Penelope, Percy, Amelia Bones, and several other Ministry officials who had been invited either because they were likely to support their efforts or because their departments had something to do with werewolves. Hermione and Harry laid out their plan for them with anticipated needs as well as plans for what aspects of the home could be self-sustaining.

"Everything we're asking for is entirely reasonable. We just need a chance to make this work."

* * *

It was Friday and Harry was sitting at his desk, thumbing through the inventory lists. He and Hermione were still in the process of making sure everything that was in her head about this place made it to paper for Harry. They'd been working at it all day yesterday and there was only today and this weekend before she started her apprenticeship with Snape. They'd been in the middle of inventorying the plants that Hermione had brought the other day when Neville appeared with several more that Hermione had requested. They had to be added to the list, along with the ones that Neville expected to have soon. Prices were listed next to the plants for the Ministry's records. Everything had to be priced for the Ministry's records. Hermione was in the garden cataloguing these new additions and Neville volunteered to help with the planting on Saturday.

Remus was giving John a math lesson in his room down the hall. Harry had turned one of the unfinished rooms into his office for the time being. Eight rooms were built, though only six had doors still. Samuel and Leo were laying down tile in the bathroom. Harry opened his planner, noting that the official in charge of connecting them to the Floo network would be arriving Monday and the fireplace needed to be taken care of before then. An extensive list of protective charms needed to be added around the property to stop Muggles from wandering in to investigate. Harry wondered if that was going to make it hard for John to find his way back if he ever went out for anything beyond the property lines.

He felt his stomach rumble. Outfitting a kitchen needed to be high on the priority list as well—a stove, an oven, pans, plates…He thought his hand might cramp with all the writing. He pushed away from his desk, brushing his hair out from his eyes and walking down the hall. Six beds had been delivered yesterday along with wardrobes, desks, and chairs from Jo's anonymous member of the Wizengamot, with a note and satchel of money. The note had read, "Take them out and let them make this home. When I visit, I don't want to see a dormitory." It would be good to take them out.

Harry closed his eyes, putting his hands back behind his head, resting for a moment. Support wasn't going to come pouring in from the Ministry—not by a long shot. Leo had spent some time, on and off, the last few years with other werewolves, though he never stayed in the company of packs long. He was planning to try and sniff them out in the next few weeks with Remus, see what he could do about convincing others that this wasn't some sort of colossal trap. He opened his eyes when he heard footsteps.

"We were going to Apperate out for some lunch and then take them out shopping. Do you want to come?" asked Hermione, pushing her hair out of her face, mussed from the wind outside.

"Sure." Harry pushed back from the desk, and went to join the others. He, Hermione, and Remus each Apperated with one of the others. John was visibly shaken by the experience—he usually was, at least a little. It occurred to Harry that Leo hadn't been bit as a child…he probably had his license. He asked about it over lunch.

"Oh, I had it. I can still do it. I'm just out of practice doing anything with magic since they took my wand away," he said, bitterness in his voice. "If I had one of my own again…"

Harry added it to his mental list. "I'll make sure you get to Ollivanders."

* * *

That evening found Leo and Samuel playing cards while John listened to the radio in his room. Hermione and Harry were still in what had been dubbed the office. "You're look beat," he said.

"That's the pot calling the kettle black."

The smiled at one another, exhausted. "I've been thinking about it. Leo needs some review, but his spell work has a solid foundation. Between him and Remus, if they're willing, I think Samuel could be taught. I can help too."

She nodded. "We've hardly made a dent in the plans for the first floor." She sighed. "When I get home, I'm planning on going through as much as I have in the way of potions notes, make sure that everything Snape has taught me is still accessible in my brain."

"You're going to wear yourself out, Hermione."

She shrugged as if that weren't important. "This is a major opportunity. I have to do whatever I can. If he's unhappy with my work, he can terminate the contract at any time. If I'm unhappy with his teaching, I can terminate the contract. The difference is, I'm getting more out of this than he is, and I don't think I can find another teacher as good as he is. His only incentive to keep teaching me is that if he terminates the contract, it lets me out of my promise…"

Harry shook his head. He understood, but he also knew the cost of what Hermione was doing. She was going to have to put herself back under Snape's thumb and take whatever verbal abuse he threw at her. Clearly Snape knew she was worth the time though, or he wouldn't have agreed at all. Harry wondered what Hermione had promised in exchange for the apprenticeship. "Just be careful."

"I always am." She brought their conversation back around to the first floor and they went downstairs, chalking outlines for the rooms, labeling what they were supposed to be. "I think the fireplace is the next priority."

"We can manage it by knocking a hole in the upper part of the wall here to let the smoke out."

"And build it out in this direction…It's got to be tall enough for a full grown man to stand in." She continued to chalk lines as Harry stood against the wall, a tape measure of sorts for her to chalk the height by.

It wasn't until after the others had gone to bed that Harry and Hermione left. Hermione didn't go until Ron came for her and Apperated away, his arms around her. Harry slid into his bed that night and passed out straight away.

* * *

During the next week, Jo was away from the Burrow a lot, at meetings she refused to give Harry the details of, always answering, "Not yet. When I know more I'll tell you." For the first time in months, they didn't have lunch together on Tuesday and Harry found he missed it, missed her, as he sat at his desk, eating a sandwich. He and the others frequently went to the Burrow for lunch—Mrs. Weasley was more than happy to have them and it was a healthy walk—a couple of miles, but it was a couple of miles everyone was more than glad to spend outdoors before the cold set in. Mrs. Weasley was still working on getting a position in St. Mungo's at the maternity ward. She was more than qualified—they were just waiting for the nurse she was replacing to take her own maternity leave.

Hermione was at the werewolf home a lot on Saturday and as much of Sunday as she could spare before starting her apprenticeship Monday. She stopped by Wednesday evening, looking half-dead; apparently Snape was still a hard taskmaster, and more so when he only had a single pupil. He was fatiguing even Hermione, the girl who still held the record for taking more classes than anyone else in a single year at Hogwarts.

By Friday night, the werewolf home was connected to the Floo network. The bathrooms upstairs were finished. Eight of rooms were furnished, with doors. Harry still used one of the empty ones for his office. The common room on the second floor was furnished with couches, tables, some books, and some games. The bedrooms of each occupant had been painted in a color of their choosing, replacing the bleak whitewash. The kitchen was slow progress, the walls going up as appliances went in. There was a working stove, along with pots and pans. The oven hadn't been seen to yet, though the sink worked. There was no sort of reception area yet, though it would be near the fireplace. A large, battered oak table and chairs had been brought in for meals, though there were no walls marking the dining room off from anywhere else.

Harry felt someone smoothing his hair down…it was a soothing feeling. He realized he must have fallen asleep at his desk and that someone was touching him and sat bolt upright. He blinked, straightening his glasses. "Jo?"

She looked at him, rather abashed, putting her hands behind her back. "Didn't mean to scare you, or wake you. I came by to see how things are going. I haven't seen you for days, except at breakfast."

He sat up, stretching. "Haven't seen you either. Missed you Tuesday especially."

She sat on the edge of his desk in her faded jeans. "Me too. I finally shoved my way through on the _Prophet_. They're printing my article about this place. It's had a dozen rewrites—I have to keep adding things as they kept pushing it back and trying to delay printing this." She put a roll of parchment on his desk. "It's the final draft. It'll be in the paper tomorrow. You've been up to so much here that my copy is probably still behind what you've actually done."

He took the parchment. "We're trying. It's slow going. I don't know how Hermione ever thought she could do this on her own…then again, I'm not Hermione. Maybe that computer brain of hers could manage to keep all this straight. Mine can't. I wish it weren't winter. It's hard trying to start a garden in winter and Hermione's plans call for an herb garden—specifically one that needs the ingredients for Wolfsbane potion, and a vegetable garden to help keep this place more self-sufficient. There's three inches of snow outside and the ground is frozen underneath it."

She squeezed his hand. "You'll get there. It takes time."

He was sorely tempted to put his head back on his desk, but looked at her, worn, but sitting up, and stayed upright himself, watching her for a moment. "It's Friday night. You want to go somewhere?"

She grinned back at him. "Sure. You lead."

He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Holding her hand, he Aperated to a small, quiet restaurant he knew. They were in the parking lot. If anyone heard their arrival without seeing it, they'd probably just be mistaken for the sound of a car backfiring.

They went inside, where the music played quietly. A waiter showed them to their seats, and Harry finally let go of Jo's hand as they settled into the booth. "I hope this place is alright."

Jo looked around curiously. "I haven't been here before."

"Well, it's not exactly a Tuesday lunch sort of place." _It's more of a Friday night date sort of place_, he added to himself. He looked around at the couples sitting at various tables. It _was_ Friday night after all. He wondered if this _was _a date. He looked through the menu. "I haven't been here in a while, but I remember liking this place. I hope you like it too. It seems the same as ever." _Stop babbling_, he told himself.

Jo looked at him, concerned. "Are you more tired than I thought? Maybe I ought to have let you sleep and just thrown a blanket over you…"

He shook his head. "No, I'm fine. So what have you been up to all week?"

She looked at him as though she still wasn't sure about his state of mind, but shrugged it off. "I spent a lot of this week at the _Prophet_ trying to sit on the editor until he agreed to publish my article. It's not a front page headline or anything—the best I could negotiate was the top of page three. But it's in there. And I met with Mr. Anonymous once or twice. He wanted to know how things were getting along. And I've met a few times with Amelia Bones. I think I know everything I should from her now, but you never know when there might be a little more…There should be more victims from around Remus's age. I just don't know where they are."

"Hiding in the depths of a forest, I'm sure. The Ministry's given them no reason to trust them in the past," Harry said, rubbing his eyes.

"How's Hermione holding up? I haven't seen her once this week."

Harry spent a moment studying the table top, watching the way the low light glinted off the varnish as he formulated his response. "Well, Snape's running her ragged, but she's determined to make this work. Wolfsbane isn't exactly an old potion you can get in any apothecary shop. It's only been around maybe twenty years, if that long. Not a lot of people can make it and if it goes wrong…"

Jo nodded. "I did some research. If it goes wrong, it's not pretty."

"So trying to learn it without a competent teacher isn't an option." His fist clenched. "I'm pretty sure he's being sure to remind her of everything we ever did wrong in his class. And this contract she's entered into with him is a big deal. She hasn't told me exactly what she owes him if she completes her training successfully, but it's something big enough to make Snape willing to put up with her for an undetermined amount of time and try to teach her everything he knows. Snape doesn't do anything for free."

She reached over and touched his hand, and he loosened his fist, some of the tension running out of him. She made her tone as easy and carefree as she could manage. "Is this what we've come down to now? Nothing to talk about but work?"

He tilted his head at her, raising an eyebrow. "I don't know about you, but I haven't had time for anything but work. Nothing interesting like chasing off stalkers or getting into brawls in the tube."

She chuckled, but her face turned a little red thinking of all the trouble that fight had gotten her into. "Well, we deserve a vacation after this week. From this point forward, work is a forbidden topic at this table."

Harry agreed and they started looking at the menu. By the time the waiter returned with fresh baked bread and olive oil with fresh ground pepper, the pair was ready to order. Harry tore off a chunk of the still hot bread and dipped it. It was delicious.

Jo couldn't help chuckling as she tore off a piece herself. "We always end up at a table together."

Harry did his best to put on a solemn face. "Not always…sometimes we end up in bed with brownies." He almost made it to the end of the sentence without bursting out laughing but not quite.

She laughed quietly. She kept her voice quiet, though she didn't think any of the Muggles were listening too terribly closely to their conversation. "You were a brat levitating me into a cold bath like that."

"It's not my fault, you wouldn't wake up."

"You could have at least dropped me in a _warm_ bath."

He gave a sardonic grin. "Now where would the fun in that be?"

She couldn't deny that dropping her into a cold bath was a hell of a lot more fun from his prospective. "I do wonder how your stalker is getting along. She hasn't tried to follow you home since that date, has she?"

"No, she hasn't, thank Merlin." He paused, looking at her quizzically at her. "Or should I be thanking someone else?"  
Jo simply smiled placidly. She may or may not have had a few words with the girl in her spare time. She raised her glass of wine for a toast.

He laughed silently, shaking his head a little and raised his own glass of water. The toasted to laughter, to life where things got better. They drank. "_I_ strengthened one of the misdirection spells around the Burrow. What did _you_ do?"

She shook her head. "No way. You're going to laugh at me."

He held up his right hand and tried to put on his best well-meaning Boy Scout sort of face. "I solemnly promise that not a snicker will pass these lips."

Badger all he might, she wasn't telling him. She veered the subject around a little. "You know, for a man who doesn't date, you sure date a lot. Are you going to see the other Muggle again? The pizza one?"

It took Harry a moment to recall Giona. "No, though come to think of it, I may write to her soon and see if there are any areas she knows about that have been rumored to have werewolves. It'd be as good of a place to start as anywhere else. And I _don't_—"

"—don't date. I _know_. Two Muggles and that girl at my sister's party—"

"—and about a thousand not-dates with you," he added.

She brushed his last comment aside, a trifle embarrassed. "I don't count."

He was genuinely curious for her response. "Why not?"

She sounded fairly sure of herself. "You don't think about me that way. You said hanging out with me was like hanging out with Ron and I'm pretty sure you never dated Ron."

"I never brought Ron here, you know." He shrugged as though letting go of something he was fighting before he opened his mouth again. "Forget all of the Tuesday lunches. Give me one good reason why we shouldn't call _this_ a date tonight. It's Friday night and we're out at a quiet, romantic restaurant after work. I asked you to come out. You said yes. We're here together." He paused. "And if I was here with another girl, you'd call it a date."

She looked down at herself, and then over at him. Neither of them was looking exactly their best. "I would have thought you'd clean up better for a date."

"If my wardrobe is the _only_ thing that keeps this from being a proper date, I could always _abra cadabra_ something and come back," he offered. He wanted a real answer.

She shook her head, "If you were here with one of those girls she'd sit there calling it a date and you'd sit there insisting it's not. Whereas I'm sitting here saying it's not, and you're saying it could be." She still wasn't entirely sure he wasn't joking.

"Forget the other girls and give me a good reason—you and me, right here, right now."

She looked up at him, the look on her face falling somewhere between overwhelmed and exhausted. "Harry, we're friends. You're the closest one I've got these days. Do you have any idea how bloody awful my life would be if we did decide to date, and whatever this thing we have now is screwed up somehow?"

He grinned at her and it was an effort. "Then we'd better not screw up." He took a deep breath, bringing his face back to serious. "I have thought about this, Jo. I think it's worth the risk."

She tilted her head, looking at the table, avoiding his face. "If you thought it was worth the risk, you would have asked me out here with the clear intention of this being a date, and not waited 'til we got here to say it, as if it might be a joke. For all I know, you're joking now."

Harry bristled. "I've been thinking about this for a while, but do you have any idea how worried _I_ am about screwing this up? I put it out on the table and you can take it or leave it, but I knew that putting it out there was going to change things, which is why I didn't say anything sooner. I've thought about this a hell of a lot. If you had any clue how many times I almost said something…"

Jo shook her head. "But you didn't _say_ anything. How am I supposed to know if you don't say anything?"

"I tried. I asked if you felt like we were dating…you said we weren't. I assumed that meant you weren't interested." He gave an exasperated groan, barely noticing as their plates arrived in front of them.

"You should have doubled checked then. Assumptions can lead to wrong conclusions and get you into trouble." She gave him her fiercest reporter-glare.

"So does mean you _are _interested? Or _were_ interested?"

She didn't answer. "Isn't it _my _job to ask questions?"

Harry glanced casually at his hands, shaking his head, just a little. He had put this on the table and it was too late to back out now, and he wasn't sure he'd want to back out if he could. "Not tonight it's not. Jo, I know which answer I want, but I understand if that's not the answer I get—for whatever reason. As much as I'd like an explanation, you don't have to give one. But I'd like an answer at least. I think we should continue with our dinner, continue chatting. At the end of the night, I intend to kiss you. Unless you tell me not to do it, I will." He wound the pasta around his fork and took a bite, looking at her calmly.

She nodded, as if to say, "fair enough" and picked a conversation topic, straining for a topic that didn't have to do with their relationship and didn't have to do with work. It didn't seem as though either of them did anything these days that wasn't with each other or wasn't work. "Mrs. Weasley mentioned something about starting work at St. Mungo's sometime after Christmas?"

"Yeah, she's bored sitting home, kids grown and out of the house…she wants something to do again. She used to be a Healer before she gave birth to a whole Quidditch team…I told to her to think about going back to it again. She told me she was getting a position in the maternity ward."

"Seems like an apt choice."

Harry laughed. "I thought so. She's been going through the paperwork, re-establishing her certification. She's more than qualified. If the job didn't involve her living at Hogwarts, I could see her as the next Madam Pompfrey. She'd have a never-ending supply of kids to look after."

Apparently, even through all the mixed emotions at the table, they could still have a normal conversation. As the dessert cart came by some while later, Jo asked, "What sort of things did you do to Snape that you think he'll torture Hermione over?"

Harry shrugged. "It wasn't so much that we did terrible things to him…he just hated us." He picked a nice slice of New York cheesecake from the cart.

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. "There was a teacher at Hogwarts who hated you guys? Come on. You're Harry Potter and Hermione's smart enough to be a Ravenclaw."

Harry shook his head, raising his hands. "He said Hermione was a know-it-all, and I'm still not clear on the details…Snape hated my dad. Utterly loathed him. And Dumbledore's hinted that he carried a torch for my mum…I've tried not to think about that terribly much. Anyway, Snape can't stand the three of us. Probably doesn't hurt his case that we did steal potions ingredients a couple of times…We brewed Polyjuice Potion in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom our second year and had to get the rare stuff from his stores."

Jo looked surprised and maybe even a little impressed. "You stole from Snape? That takes guts. I can only imagine the sorts of punishments a man with his mind could dream up." She chose a slice of apple pie off the cart. It was still warm. A couple of bites into each of their desserts, they changed plates. She grinned after tasting the cheesecake. "That is delicious."

"Apple pie isn't bad either. So give, what did you tell or do to Emily?" He took another bite and passed her plate back to her.

She rolled her eyes, putting her fork sideways in the cheesecake to get one more bite and not miss the crust. "You really want to know?"

"Yes…need to know what I'm facing if I go back there and she brings whatever it is up. Not to mention if it's something you came up with…it's probably worth a laugh. Of course, I didn't swear not to laugh."

She gave him his plate back. "I borrowed Penelope's engagement ring and went down to the hardware store wearing it. Emily got the message: you're off-limits. And you don't have to do anything about it, because no one expects a guy to wear an engagement ring. So long as she doesn't see my left hand again, we're good. I gave the ring back to Penelope."

He didn't laugh, but it was a close thing. "So you took it on yourself to pose as my fiancé, but don't want to call this a date." He shook his head, biting his lip to keep from laughing.

"Saved you from getting harassed didn't I? It worked." She sounded a little sullen.

"No complaints here." He took a long sip of water to help keep himself from laughing. "So what about this weekend? Anything fun planned?"

She shrugged. "Ginny and I talked about maybe going to the Bouncing Ferret tomorrow to wind down, but I'm not sure I want to go. It's one thing if it's a group of people, but I think it's probably going to be Ginny, Neville, and me. I'm sure Hermione is too beat to go. Luna might, but if she does, I have a feeling it'll be Luna and Seamus. Then I go from being the 3rd wheel to the fifth wheel. I'll probably just hang out at the Burrow. Or maybe try to catch a movie or something."

Harry shook his head. "Last movie I saw didn't do much for me. All action and violence. There's enough of that in reality, why go and make movies about it?"

She looked a little sympathetic and reached out, covering his hand with hers. "Not everyone's life is as violent as yours. Most people get up every day, go to work or school, and go home to their family…They look for movies with big bangs and violence because they want something to shake up their lives for an hour or two."

He sighed. "I guess. I just want something with a guaranteed happy ending and no violence."

She couldn't help laughing. "Plenty of movies like that. Movies are just about the only place you can get that guarantee."

The waiter came back to the table to take their empty dessert plates. "Will there be anything else, sir, miss?"

They answered in the negative and the waiter returned with the bill. "Whenever you're ready. No need to rush."

"Ready to go?" asked Harry, across the table.

She yawned, covering her mouth with her hand, and nodding. "Like you said, long week."

Harry paid the bill and they went outside, finding a spot in the parking lot hidden from view to Disaperate from. They arrived, holding hands, in the backyard. Jo looked up at the stars. "Are you going to kiss me?" Her voice was carefully neutral.

"Well, I was going to walk you home first, like a gentleman." He led the way inside. The house was quiet. They made their way up the stairs, stopping outside of Jo's room. She put her hand on the doorknob as if she was going to go inside. Harry took her hand in his. She looked about as nervous as he felt. He raised his other hand, resting it on the back of her head and leaning in, kissing her. She kissed him back. It was several moments before he pulled away. Harry ran his hand through his hair, looking at her, waiting for her reaction.

"Harry! Jo! We've been wondering where you were. Remus stuck his head in the fireplace looking for you, Harry."

"Do you think he still wants us at this hour?" Harry asked, wondering if Ginny had seen him and Jo, kissing.

Ginny shook her head. "Probably not. He just wanted to make sure you were alright. The last he had seen of you was when you were passed out at your desk."

Harry looked awkwardly at Ginny. "I'll make sure to Owl him tomorrow and let him know I'm alright."

Ginny paused a moment before going back to her room. "Goodnight then. Jo, are you coming to the Ferret tomorrow?"

Jo shook her head. "Haven't made up my mind yet. Probably not. Have fun with Neville though."

Ginny looked at her a little uncertainly, but turned and went back to her room without saying a word.

Harry kissed Jo on the mouth one more time, very briefly. "Goodnight, Jo." He turned and went upstairs rather quickly, making his way up to his attic. Alright, he probably shouldn't have run away. He could kick himself for that one. He took his shirt off, and kicked off his shoes, sitting on his bed. Maybe he ought to go back down there and talk to her. Or should he just wait 'til morning, give them both a little time to process this. He peeled off his socks, and stood, dropping his pants to get ready to sleep. It was getting chillier these days. He went to his dresser, getting out a pair of flannel pajama bottoms to sleep in. He had barely tugged them over his hips when he heard the stairs to his attic unfold.

He saw Jo come up the stairs. "I didn't get a chance to say goodnight…" she said. "Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, Jo."

She didn't leave. She walked over to where he was standing and kissed him again. She whispered, "Can I stay with you tonight?"

He nodded, swallowing. He said the words, bringing the stairs back up. He pulled the covers back on the bed, sliding all the way over towards the wall. She took her shoes off and slid in next to him, the curve of her back against his chest, pulling the covers up around him. She turned her head, kissing him, and pulling one of his arms around her. He held her close and kissed her neck. "Goodnight, Jo." It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to be falling asleep next to her right now.


	39. That Wonderful Time of the Year

**Chapter 39: That Wonderful Time of the Year**

* * *

**Author's Note: **So the story isn't quite going to be over with chapter 40—although I've made a good dent in that chapter already. I didn't expect it to take me fifteen pages to get through chapter 39, and have it still be Saturday all the way through. Christmas Day is Wednesday and I feel like Christmas Day would probably be an appropriate place to end this story. Thank you everybody who has reviewed, I know this story has been a long time coming, with some very large gaps in between my writing. Goal: have this story finished by the end of the month.

**Disclaimer: **This chapter 39 already…you know the drill. The only one I can take responsibility for is Jo Clearwater.

* * *

The alarm clock went off at seven in the morning and she started to stir next to him in response. He groped blindly for his wand and shut the alarm off with a flick. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and whispered in her ear. "No bloody way you're getting up right now." He kissed her neck softly, moving up to her lips slowly, kiss by kiss. "Today, you're staying right here with me."

She made a weak sound of protest; her heart wasn't in the protest though, no matter how much her mind was racing with things the thoughts of things that needed to be done today. But it did feel so very good to lie in bed, under the blankets, wrapped up in his arms. She felt protected here, loved. Not a thing in the world was going to come after her so long as she stayed in bed with him. She buried her face in his bare chest, kissing it once. "Alright, Ron."

He raised his hand, stroking her hair, resting his chin on her head. "Snape and everybody else can just bugger off today," he said softly. Every day she came home looking worn out after spending the day with Snape. Today she was going to rest and know that he loved her and would watch over her. Always.

* * *

Harry woke with his face buried in the slightly tangled mess that was what was left of Josephine's braid. His arms were still around her. He was only half awake and closed his eyes again with his arms wrapped around her still, feeling her warm, breathing form against him.

The second time Harry woke up, he moved a little, raising and stretching his one free arm. "Morning, Harry."

He looked down at her in surprise, seeing her eyes still closed. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"I was already up. Just didn't want to move. Still don't."

He couldn't help grinning like an idiot as he put his arm around her again. Perfect fit. "That makes two of us."

She rolled over a little and kissed his neck. "Sorry, I've got morning breath…you probably don't want my mouth."

Harry couldn't help laughing, bending his head kissing a trail up her neck to her mouth. "Not going to bother me," he murmured.

"But yours might bother me," she teased. She was fully facing him now, her head next to his on the pillow.

"What made you come up last night?" he asked.

She shrugged, smiling playfully. "I wanted to make sure my response to your deciding that last night was a date was interpreted correctly. Wouldn't want you making anymore assumptions now, would we?"

He chuckled, reaching over her for his glasses. "And what exactly was your response? Remember now, small, clear, words so I won't be confused."

Her face might have been a little pink, or it might have just been rack burn from the bedding. "I want to give this a shot. Us."

He slid his glasses on and the world clicked into focus. He tugged the blankets towards him, covering his bare upper half as he slid back into the bedding again. "Good. So do I."

"Blanket hog!"

"Hey, you're fully dressed—I've only got pants on. I deserve the blankets." After a few more tugs this way and that with the blanket, they sorted themselves out. "So, what's on your agenda today?"

"Not a thing. If I weren't getting hungry, I'd vote for staying in bed 'til Monday."

His hand was resting on her hip and he was inclined to agree. "We always end up with a table between us," he teased. "Alright. Let's get some food in you."

Half an hour later saw Harry, dressed in khakis and a black sweater, walking down towards the village with Jo, who had quickly showered and changed into fresh jeans and a blouse. It did look pretty good, decorated for Christmas—Christmas was only five days away. They stopped off at the deli for sandwiches, and Jo smiled cheekily and Harry waved as they passed the hardware store. Even though it was cold out, the sun was shining and it felt like a great day. As they sat and ate their sandwiches, Jo brought up the movies again. "We could see if anything is playing that's worth watching, or I could bring you over to my parents' place. I know I've still got stacks of movies there. There was no sense in bringing them to the Weasleys' without something to play them on, or electricity to run the machine."

"You've got something with a guaranteed happy ending and no violence?" he asked skeptically.

"Yup. Plenty of somethings. As a matter of fact, I probably have a dozen somethings." She sounded confident. "There may be other reasons you don't like them, but I can assure you—the moves end happily and there is no violence."

Harry decided to take her word for it. "Okay, work was off the table last night. It's back on the table today."

"I haven't heard anything new from my contact. I was with you last night and this morning—when would I have?"

Harry sighed. "I feel like Remus is stuck babysitting. John's a kid—he can't be left alone. And Samuel and Leo are still adjusting. Remus is the only one who can use his magic. Well, Leo can…we made sure to get a wand from him. He's got a lot of brushing up to do. It's been a long time. I brought my old books from Hogwarts over and he's been practicing, re-teaching himself with some help from Remus. And Samuel never learned, but he's got the aptitude. We got him a wand as well. I don't think he's started to try anything with it—the last I saw it was still in its box from Ollivanders. There just doesn't seem to be enough I can do to keep things moving. I feel like nothing is going to happen as fast as it should for them." He rubbed his temples.

"Monday we can make good on your promise to bug the hell out of Penelope. I'd say let's do it this weekend, but I feel like it'll be a lot more effective to bother her in front of voting witches and wizards." She reached over and squeezed his hand.

"I was looking at what we need staff-wise for the place. I'm not sure if we need a medi-witch or wizard on staff or not. We definitely need a teacher for math and English and all that, and someone to teach magic—preferably someone willing to teach multiple subjects who is tremendously patient. Hermione is going to cover us for potions—and that should be a position the Ministry compensates her for. Someone really ought to be in charge of meals. Or should that just be a community task? And there's the grocery shopping to do and I feel like someone needs to keep track of all the Ministry paperwork—I'm not sure I'm organized enough for that."

She was still holding his hand, and she gave it another squeeze. "Well, I should think the patient teacher would be obvious."

"Hermione doesn't have the time—"

She laughed at him. "Not Hermione. You. You've got the patience and you've got the knowledge, and from what I gathered from stories about Dumbledore's Army…you're a fantastic teacher. You've got a knack for it. With the Wolfsbane potion coming, you've got a lot less of a need for a Medi-witch. Minor things you guys can handle yourselves, major things, St. Mungo's like anyone else. You worry too much. And it's only a couple of miles. They could get groceries in town here." She stood up, tugging his arm. "Let's go drop in on my parents and watch some movies."

* * *

Neville was kneeling in the dirt next to Ginny, planting some of the plants he'd brought over to the werewolf home the day before. They had melted the snow over the area where they were planting—at least it had only been a few inches. They had come around ten o'clock, wanting to work when it would be warmest. Neville was well prepared with gloves, hoes, spades, and it seemed everything else. "Remind me to make a list of the type of attention each of these needs," he said absent-mindedly, just barely stopping himself from putting his muddy fingers in his hair—even the cold he wasn't bothering with the gloves.

Ginny nodded. She was patting down the ground around the young plants Neville had just put in, giving them a better chance at not being pulled up in whatever the next bout of weather was. She looked at the crates of plants still left, knowing they'd be out there for a while. Her gaze drifted back to Neville's face, where he was working. His movements were careful, but without hesitation, practiced but natural, and his face was happy. He caught her looking at him and laughed a little, wiping his forehead with one hand, leaving a dark streak of mud across it. "What?"

She smiled, shaking her head. "Nothing. Just thinking about how lucky I am to be sitting here with somebody as amazing as you."

Remus had seen the two of them working outside from his window and had come downstairs to ask if they needed a hand. When he was actually outside and saw them gazing at each other like they were the only ones in the world, he went back indoors to cook lunch.

* * *

Two hours after their trip to the deli found Harry and Josephine curled up on the couch in Jo's parents' living room. Her parents appeared to be out for the afternoon. Jo had rummaged through the movie collection and found a movie she deemed suitable and stuck it in the machine. Grabbing the remote from the armchair, she had settled down next to Harry, leaning on him, and pressed play. The movie was nearly over now.

"What's she doing there? He with the wrong girl," Harry said indignantly.

Jo laughed. "That happens all the time in books and movies. Don't worry—in books and movies they always seem to get it right in the end. Just be patient." She was sitting between his legs, her back to his chest, with his back propped up on pillows against the armrest.

She was still laughing at his response when her mother came in, laden with several grocery bags. Mrs. Clearwater looked up sharply noticing the noise. "Josephine? What are you doing here?"

Jo looked over at her mum but didn't move. "I wanted to come by and watch some movies and maybe stay for dinner, and you and dad weren't in, so I let myself in and figured on just waiting for you to get home."

Her mother looked at her skeptically. "And Harry? What brings you here?"

He answered simply. "Josephine." The word tasted a little unnatural in his mouth. When was the last time he'd called her by her full name? Judging by the look on Jo's face peering at him over her shoulder, she thought it sounded funny too. Mrs. Clearwater was clearly expecting something more. "It's very lovely to see you, Mrs. Clearwater."

"You too, Harry." Her reply was a little bit absent, scrutinizing her daughter and the young man on the couch, mostly her daughter. She shifted the bags she was holding, not wanting to leave the two of them in the living room before getting a proper explanation.

Harry looked down at it Jo as if to ask _Do you want to tell her, or should I?_ Apparently Jo understood the look. She shrugged very slightly and rested her cheek on his chest, not looking at her mum. Harry tickled her ribs very slightly with the hand closest to the back of the couch to get her to sit up and look a little more alert. "Would you like some help with the groceries?"

She was a little startled. "There are a couple more bags in the car if you wouldn't mind…"

"Not at all." He managed to disentangle himself from Josephine and the couch with just a little effort and went out to get the bags. The last time he had come by here, Mrs. Clearwater had asked if he had a date with Jo. That had been before she moved in with the Weasleys. He wasn't exactly sure what the etiquette for this sort of situation was. He supposed he should be happy that Jo's mum hadn't come home to find them snogging like teenagers who weren't expecting their parents home yet. He kind of felt like it was Josephine's job to introduce him to her parents as her new boyfriend, but if Jo didn't want to do it, he'd say it for her. They had agreed they wanted to make a go of this. He brought the four bags in his arms into the kitchen and set them on the table. Mrs. Clearwater was already unloading the contents of her bags into the refrigerator and pantry. "Would you like some help?" Harry offered.

"Thank you for offering." She looked at Harry as though trying to measure him. "Josephine said your movie was nearly done, if you'd like to go back to it."

He smiled at her and went back into the living room.

Josephine was sitting up on the couch, the remote in her hand. She had put the movie on pause for him. She muttered, "Well, now we have to stay for dinner and all the wonderful interim hours between dinner and now."

He put an arm around her shoulder, "Won't be so bad."

She shot him a look. "Yes, it will. Have you ever been interrogated by parents of a girl you just started to date?"

He shrugged, smiling. "Look at the bright side: no Penelope or Percy."

She perked a little at that. "I didn't explain to her yet...about us. She looked at me like she was trying to read my mind though."

Harry settled himself back into the couch. "If we're going to make a go at this, one of us has to tell her." Harry wasn't sure why, but it made a difference to have it out in the open. They had it out in the open with each other now—it kind of made sense to have it out in the open with other people. Depending on how you looked at it, their relationship was less than twenty-fours old….or it had been going on for months already.

"You tell her."

He raised an eyebrow. "If I tell her the news, then you've got to tell Mrs. Weasley. I'm no expert on these things but I feel like your mum would probably rather hear about it from you than me."

Jo frowned, trying to decide on the lesser of two evils. Mrs. Weasley had been suggesting both of them find significant others for a while. They both also lived in far closer proximity to Mrs. Weasley—after all, they were only separated by a few walls and some stairs. She had a feeling she'd probably hear more on the subject than she needed to from her. "I'll tell my mum and dad—you tell the Weasleys."

"What, all of them?" His mouth twitched in a smile. "That's nine people I've got to tell, compared to your two people. Not to mention Penny and Hermione, who are technically Weasleys now, so make that eleven."

She shrugged, grinning at him. "But, you get the advantage of watching me do it first. I'll tell them when my dad comes home." Harry laughed, nodding. It was fair enough. "I promised you a happy ending. You don't get to see it unless you actually watch the end." She hit play. The last twenty minutes of the film passed and Sandra Bullock and Hugh Grant decided to live happily ever after. "See? No violence, no explosions, and a guaranteed happy ending. There are tons more just like it."

Harry smiled. The movie hadn't tossed them any mind blowing twists, but it had been comfortable, funny, and peaceful, with a little message of _See? Things do work out_. It wasn't bad. And looking at the girl next to him on the couch, he couldn't help smiling.

She looked at him a little warily. "What?"

He shook his head, putting his arm around her and kissing her cheek. "Nothing."

She snorted as though she didn't believe him, but she didn't protest his arm either. "Do you want to watch another movie?"

"Maybe."

Josephine jerked her head towards the collection of movies. "Go look at them and see if anything looks interesting. If you want, I can pick something out that's like what we just saw."

Harry got up to browse the movies, not sure whether he wanted to see another romantic comedy or not. As his hand traveled through the stack, something stopped him. _An American Werewolf in London_. Bloody hell. He'd forgotten about Remus. He'd promised to send a message today. It was already mid-afternoon. He turned back to look at her. "We've got to go. Or, I've got to anyway. I completely forgot Remus was looking for me last night." He ran his hand through his hair.

"I'll come with you."

He gave her a look over the top of his glasses and jerked his head towards the kitchen. "You promised your mother you'd stay for dinner."

She made a face, and then she cheered. "Actually, I promised her _we'd_ stay. If you're cutting out, so I am I." She folded her arms, challenging him.

He answered, "We'll go and come back then." Her face soured a little. She had been hoping to get out of the dinner together at all. "I'm betting it's been ages since you've seen your parents. Besides, you have something to tell them." He grinned at her cheekily.

She sighed. "It could be worse. Penny and Percy could be here."

He grinned at her again and if he'd been within range, he might have clapped her on the back. "That's the spirit." They went into the kitchen where her mum was reading a magazine.

"Mum, we've got to go. Something came up for Harry at work."

Her mother looked up sharply, as though about to ask what Harry having to leave for work had to do with her youngest daughter leaving. Instead she said, "I thought you were staying for dinner?"

Jo tried to hide her frown. She had been hoping her mum would have forgotten that bit. "We'll come back. What time are you and dad eating tonight?"

"Five thirty. Your father was up early this morning to go fishing, so I'm sure he'll be exhausted tonight."

"We're not having fish tonight, are we?"

Mrs. Clearwater shook her head. "No, Josephine, the last time I checked in with your father, he hadn't caught anything, though Lord knows he tries and tries. He went out there with half a dozen different kinds of bait this morning and—"

Josephine muttered to Harry, "He never catches anything." She forced a smile. "We'll see you at five thirty, Mum."

"Goodbye, Mrs. Clearwater," Harry said, not sure if the words made it to her as Jo took that moment to Apperate them to the werewolf home. They were outside the building, and the first thing Harry noticed—a little guiltily—was that someone had been busy in the garden. Snow had been melted away from what were clearly new plants. They really had to do something about getting some sort of protection over them—at least to help the things through their first winter. He added it to the mental list, aware that he probably ought to start carrying a pen and paper with him so that he actually _could_ make notes for these things as they came up. He started for the building with Josephine beside him.

The first person they saw was Samuel, washing dishes in the still not quite finished kitchen. "Afternoon."

"Good afternoon. Is Remus around?"

"Yeah. Everybody's upstairs. I'm just cleaning up from lunch. My turn with the dishes."

Harry looked around at the rather large number of plates stacked beside him. "Do you want a hand?"

Samuel shook his head. "No, no, I'm nearly done. This is the clean stack. I'm doing dishes from breakfast and lunch."

"If you want, I can teach you how to do dishes with magic," Harry offered casually. He looked up to see Samuel's reaction.

Samuel hesitated. "Maybe another time."

Harry nodded, understanding that he wasn't ready yet. "We'll be upstairs then." Upstairs, he found his office was as much of a mess as when he'd left on Friday. He groaned a little. "Why couldn't the organization fairy come and take care of this while I was gone?"

A voice from the doorway said, "If you're talking about Hermione, she's on strict R&R orders for the weekend. Or at least today. I already got a message from my brother telling me not to call Hermione up today for anything except maybe a night out on the town. Absolutely no work for her today. She can go back to killing herself tomorrow if she'd like."

Harry didn't even have to turn around. "Hey, Ginny. I'm a little surprised to see you here." He looked up over his shoulder at her standing there. Josephine settled herself behind Harry's desk. "I forgot to send Remus that owl this morning, so I thought I'd come see how things were."

Josephine added, "And he didn't mean Hermione. He met a mystery force that would just fix everything for him."

Ginny nodded. "Well, everybody but Samuel is in the common room if you want to come." They followed her into the common room. "Look who I found."

Remus chuckled, looking at Harry. "I'm glad to know you're still alive. I was beginning to wonder if it was possible to actually drown in a pile of paperwork."

Harry shook his head. "Not quite. Just passed out. I figured that was a good sign that it was time to go home."

Ginny gave him an odd look, as if thinking _If you were home all night, why couldn't I find you when Remus called?_

Harry tried to brush past the look. "So I saw that it looks like a lot happened outside today."

Ginny was still looking at him a little strangely. Neville looked up over at the conversation. "We really need to get some sort of protective covering over all the new beds. I'm not saying you need to go for a full fledged green house, though eventually a small one would be really useful, but for now I think a fairly basic glass enclosure with some warmth spells for good measure should help. I can put a call into my glass supplier and see what we can do. I may already have a half dome that should work with a few changes." He patted himself down, looking for parchment and a quill. "Ginny, where did…?"

Rolling her eyes, but smiling, Ginny pointed to the couch where a crumpled piece of parchment and a bent quill had fallen out of his pocket.

Jo snickered at Harry a little bit and whispered as they moved to sit on one of the couches, "See? It's not easy to say something—and remember, she's on _your_ list."

He nudged her in the ribs. "Be nice to me or I'll get your parents to invite Penelope over for dinner. You'll have to sit next to her making conversation _all_ night."

"You wouldn't."

He grinned. "Try me."

Ginny looked up, catching the end of the conversation. "Josephine, you're having dinner with your parents? I guess the Ferret is out then."

Josephine sighed. "Yeah, I promised I'd see them. It's been a while. I still haven't figured out what I'm going to do for Christmas. I'd rather spend it at the Burrow, but some little nagging part of my brain is telling me my parents my actually expect me to be home for it." After a beat she added, "I think I might end up at the Ferret anyway. It might be a good way to de-stress. Dinner is going to be pretty early."

Ginny looked at Harry. "You're more than welcome to come. When I leave here I'm going to see if I can get Ron and Hermione out of the house for a night. Neville and I were thinking maybe nine o'clock? I was going to give Luna, and the twins a heads up too, make a real outing of it."

Harry shrugged as though he still hadn't really made up his mind about whether or not such an outing was worth the effort. "Probably going to join you; I haven't been out there on a weekend in ages."

Remus smiled encouragingly at him. "Go. It'll be good for you."

Harry and Jo killed the next three hours with the others. He scooped all of his note piles off his desk and brought them out onto the couch to sort, making another mental note to himself that he needed to get some binders to organize all this stuff in. He really ought to start actually writing his list on paper instead of just in his head. He added "shopping" to his mental to do list, and "buy sticky notes" to his shopping list. Things were starting to resemble some sense of order by the time he and Josephine finally got up to leave for her parents' house. Nothing was in a binder or a folder, but there were several distinct piles. Harry looked at his desk one more time, glancing at his shopping list on the top of one of the stacks—he'd actually gotten around to writing it down this afternoon. He hadn't written it down, but seeing the list reminded him that he had a lot of Christmas presents left to buy this week.

"Would you like to do it, or should I?"

"Be my guest," she offered. Chuckling, he took her hand and they Apperated to the Clearwater's backyard. Josephine opened the backdoor. "Mum, Dad, I'm home," she called, striding into the kitchen. Harry followed her.

"I was wondering when you'd get here, your sister has already been here for ten minutes. Dinner is ready. Your dad is in the living room, sitting his chair, talking to Percy. Go let them know dinner is ready, and don't forget to wash up," she reminded her, as if she couldn't possibly remember all of this on her own.

Josephine shot Harry a look; he gave the tiniest shake of his head, answering her unasked question. Despite the threats he'd made earlier, he had not invited Penelope and Percy. He was no more eager to see them than Jo was. Mrs. Clearwater must have done it on her own.

As Josephine disappeared into the living room to gather the rest of the family, Harry smiled at Mrs. Clearwater. "Er, would you like some help pouring drinks?" He was going to offer to set the table, but it was already set for six.

"Certainly. Why don't you take the grapefruit juice from the fridge and pour everyone a glass." Harry stopped pouring after five glasses and Mrs. Clearwater noticed. "You don't like grapefruit? I think there's apple juice in the back."

"Oh, no, thank you. I drink it. It's just Josephine doesn't. I was going to wait and see what she wanted before pouring her anything."

Mrs. Clearwater looked a little confused as though this was news to her. Before she could comment, Josephine led the others in, already looking irritated. She saw the carton of juice on the counter and sat down at the seat with the empty glass. Harry couldn't help smiling a little. He asked, "Apple juice or water?" he asked.

She smiled gratefully. "Apple, thanks."

"Josephine, I didn't know you never liked grapefruit."

She dropped the smile. She shrugged. "You never asked."

Meanwhile, Harry was greeting Penelope and Percy. "It's good to see you. I didn't expect to see you here." Evidently Percy and Penelope were thinking the same thing.

A slight frown might have almost crossed Penelope's face if she hadn't been working hard lately to learn carefully neutral diplomatic expressions. Percy's face fared less well. "Mother didn't tell us she was expecting you. She simply called and told me that Josephine was coming over for dinner and it would be a treat to have the whole family together."

Mr. Clearwater took his seat at the table, looking at Harry as though he couldn't quite remember who he was. Mrs. Clearwater put the various dinner dishes on the table, checking to be sure the oven was off. He cleared his throat as everyone sat down. "Josephine, would you introduce me to your friend? I can't seem to recall his name…"

Jo looked a little ruffled that she was going to have to do this now, and create an awkward dinner conversation, rather than slipping it in at the end. "His name is Harry, Dad. Harry Potter. And actually, he's not exactly my friend. He's my boyfriend." Harry smiled at her, reaching under the table to give her hand a squeeze.

Oddly enough, Percy was the first to respond. "Since when?" It was the sort of thing his mother would have told him, regardless of whether or not he particularly wanted to know.

She shrugged, fighting down a blush. "I don't know, twenty hours? Twenty-two hours?" She looked at Harry for confirmation. "It's somewhere in that neighborhood anyway."

Harry smiled friendly at Percy. "Just so you don't feel too terribly out of the loop, Percy, the four of you are the first to hear the news. I'll be letting your mum know this weekend, so if you could refrain from saying anything…"

Penelope's mouth made a wry smile that looked like it would have been more appropriate on Jo's face, and for a minute, Harry could see the similarities in their features. It surprised him. For all that they were sisters and not all that far apart in age, the moments when Penelope and Josephine seemed in any way similar were few and far between. "Who would want to miss out on Mrs. Weasley's _I-knew-it_ moment?"

"Penny!"

She shrugged, dropping the expression. "Oh, she'll be thrilled, she'll just also be wearing a giant I-told-you-so grin. So will a lot of other people I'm sure."

Josephine made a face and Harry shrugged, wearing a half-grin and looking at her. "She's right. We should carry a camera around to document it all the reactions. Ron's never going to let me live this down," he murmured the last sentence just to Jo and she laughed.

Mr. Clearwater frowned, as though aware that Harry's name should be ringing some other sort of bell. "What do you do, Harry?"

Harry smiled pleasantly, shooting a look at Percy and Penelope. He moved a portion of the chicken from the casserole dish to his plate. "At the moment, I'm managing a philanthropic organization that is being established to help a group of wizards and witches who have been subjected to blind prejudice get back on their feet."

Penelope's eyes narrowed a little. "Harry Potter is considered a pillar of the magical community, Father. The trouble that was brewing a few years ago, as attacks on Muggles became more and more prevalent during the war—he is largely responsible for the end of the war."

"He's _that_ Harry?"

"Somebody's gotta be," Jo replied flippantly.

Harry chuckled. "I am, Mr. Clearwater."

The dinner passed rather slowly. Harry didn't have a whole lot to say to Penelope or Percy other than what he intended to unleash at the Ministry on Monday, and really not much of anything to see to the Clearwaters. Jo wasn't exactly keen on talking to Penelope and Percy—when was she ever? The conversation ended up frequently reverting to Mr. Clearwater describing the day's fishing.

When dinner was over, it seemed everyone was grateful to make their exits.

Harry and Jo Apperated back to his room. "I may need ice cream to revive me after that dinner. It was painful."

"There's probably some downstairs. Or we could go to Fortescue's. We've still got an hour and a half before we've got to meet anybody." Harry went over to his dresser, looking for a shirt to wear. "You do know that from the moment we tell them…they're going to make life unlivable, right?" he asked conversationally.

"Probably. As your best friends, isn't that their job?"

He shrugged, picking out a navy sweater he rather liked, and tossing it on the bed.

She grinned, looking down at it. "Aw, you're going to display some Ravenclaw pride! How sweet." She sat on the edge of the bed.

He chuckled—he hadn't exactly thought of it that way. "Yeah, but if I'm going there in Ravenclaw's color, I was really hoping you'd return the favor…I know I've seen a red tank top around somewhere of yours…"

She gave him a look. "Nice try. It's December, Harry. I'm not going out in a tank top. But I do have something red I could wear."

"Unless you're the kind of girl that's planning on staying up here and watching me get dressed, why don't you go downstairs, change, and meet me back up here in a few minutes and we'll go out?" he offered.

She rolled her eyes. "I've got to go downstairs and come back up? That hardly seems fair…aren't you supposed to pick me up?"

"I would, but inevitably, it'll take you longer to get ready than me."

She made a face at him, balling up his sweater and throwing it at him. It wasn't a particularly effective missal. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Harry changed from his black button down into the navy sweater, and made a pass at his hair with a comb. It wasn't long before he heard her on the stairs again. He couldn't help grinning. She had made an effort—her hair was combed and down instead of the usual ponytail or braid. She had on a burgundy sweater with a scoop neck, and was carrying her jacket over one arm. "Fortescues?"

"Fortescues." They went.

The ordered—the place was a little busy, but no more than usual for a Saturday night. They got ice cream cones so they could eat them and walk—there weren't any empty tables. "It's going to be interesting breaking the news to them tonight. How do you want to do it?" Harry asked.

She looked a little surprised. "You think we'll need to tell them?"

"Short of snogging in front of them, they're not going to figure it out on their own. Like I said last night…I've been on a thousand not-dates with you. They've had their…theories for ages. They've told me that you and I should—that's why they won't let me live it down when they find out. Nobody ever said anything to you?" he asked, his sentences rather running together.

"Once or twice maybe. Nothing real outright. And do we need to tell them?"

"Well, we said we wanted to make a go of this, Jo. As far as I can tell, that means actually telling them we're giving it a shot, and not just snogging in my room or on the staircase. Telling them we're giving this a go it's part of what changes our future would-have-been not-dates to real dates, so yeah, we should say something." He looked sideways at her. Ron and Hermione and Ginny had had plenty to say to him on the subject of getting a girlfriend and Josephine had been high on their list for him. Had they really never said anything to her? Then again, Ron and Hermione have been his best friend or most of a decade. Maybe they just didn't feel close enough to Jo to try and talk her into anything. Jo. He'd been calling her Jo for a while now—most people called her Josephine. He shook the thought from his head as he finished his ice cream. He hadn't even realized they stopped in front of Quality Quidditch Supplies.

She looked at him, teasing. "Isn't this dangerous territory for you to be standing in front of all alone at night? Aren't there hordes of fans to out to get you still?"

He gave a melodramatic sigh. "They've abandoned me…they've converted to Ginny fans. She's won them over already. Besides, I'm not out alone…you're going to protect me, right?"

She frowned as though trying to decide if it was worth it, tilting her head. "Oh, I don't know…I'm sure it'd just be one scrape after another, I'd always be saving your rear. Really, I ought to just let them all do away with you tonight…" He laughed tugging her to him and kissing her. She tasted like strawberry ice cream. When they broke apart she licked her bottom lip. "Well, that might induce me to go to battle on your behalf. If you always kiss that good, it might be worth saving you from the angry fan-hordes."

Still holding her hand from pulling her in for the kiss, he chuckled. "Well, it's good to know I've finally found my calling…I can do something right. C'mon, let's go." He wrapped his other arm around her and Disapperated with her to the Bouncing Ferret.

* * *

Ginny was at a largish corner table, sipping a rum and Coke next to Neville. She had successfully managed to drag Ron and Hermione out of the house. The twins were stirring up trouble on the dance floor already, talking to a number of pretty little things, and switching places on the girls to see if they noticed. Apparently, as old as they were, they never felt their jokes got old. Seamus was talking to Neville and Dean, whom Seamus must have invited. Dean had brought a girl with him but she seemed to have wandered off to the dance floor (Ginny wondered if the girl over in the red dress by Fred was her). Luna was up at the bar ordering a Snarkers from Daphne. Neither Josephine nor Harry had arrived yet, but neither had offered her more than a strong maybe this afternoon and she hadn't been able to find them when she was leaving the house.

The door opened and a man and woman came in, the man's arm wrapped around the woman's waist. Ron nudged Ginny in the ribs and jerked his chin at the pair. She blinked. "Harry? Josephine?"

They slid into the booth. "Hey, everybody."

Ginny just said, "I wasn't sure if you were going to make it out tonight or not. Do you need anything to drink?"

Harry stood up, smiling. "I'll get it. Does anybody else need anything?"

"I'll go with you, mate," offered Ron. "Hermione?"

Hermione had a half finished drink of some sort in front of her. "I'll take another one of these. After the week I had with Snape…" She just shook her head.

Harry looked at Josephine to see what she wanted. "Pina colada." With a last check to see if anyone else wanted anything, Harry and Ron got up and headed over to the bar.

"Harry, mate, what—" Ron started.

Harry smiled at Daphne, leaning on the counter. He looked at Luna who was giving instructions to the other bartender on the best way to make Snarkers. "Hey, Luna. Daphne, could I get a pina colada, and a Butterbeer?"

Daphne told him it'd be right up, and moved on to ask Ron what he wanted. He answered, still frowning at Harry. When Daphne was occupied making drinks, Ron started on Harry again, very slowly, as if he was a child. "Harry, wh—"

Harry turned his attention away, asking Luna how things were going with the _Quibbler_. "Very well, though one of our subscribers have Owled, claiming to have spotted Severus Snape while on safari."

Harry blinked. He'd completely forgotten that he'd ever promised to write it. "I'm sorry, Luna. I can't believe I just…I've been so busy I completely forgot." She patted his hand and picked up both glasses of Snarkers the bartender had set down for her.

"Don't worry. I know you never really wanted to write anyway. Someone else can do the column." She smiled serenely. "Save me a dance."

"Potter, your drinks are ready," Daphne commented. She gave a wry smile. "Regular ladies' man tonight, aren't you?"

He grinned, shrugging. "Somebody's got to be, right?" He laid his money on the counter and took the drinks back to the table, sliding in next to Jo and offering her beverage to her.

She took a long drink. "I needed that. After dinner with my parents, I may need a couple of them."

Harry chuckled, popping the cap off his Butterbeer. "It wasn't that bad. Well, maybe it was."

Hermione moved over to make room for Ron. "You both had dinner with the Clearwaters?"

Josephine nodded grimly, as if Hermione asked if she'd been stretched out on the rack in a dungeon. "And Penny and Percy."

He explained. "We went over there to watch some movies, and Mrs. Clearwater came back before we left and roped Jo into staying for dinner. I offered to stay so she wouldn't have to suffer alone."

Josephine rolled her eyes. "My hero." She shot him a look. "Heroic would have been getting us out of having to go at all."

He shrugged, taking a sip of his Butterbeer. "I'm sorry, but my superpowers only stretch so far. I had to use the rest up on bending my mind to the prospect of ending world hunger and bringing about world peace. I only had so much to spare for getting you out of familial torture." He put an arm around her shoulder. "I do hope you can forgive me."

"Well, I'll try," she conceded. "But it may take another drink, and probably ice cream again later if anywhere is open."

Two boisterous men with somewhat shaggy red hair came over to the table and clapped Harry on the back. "We've got somebody we want you to meet, Harry."

Harry looked up at the twins. "With as many lovely ladies as are at this table, why would I want to leave?"

They wouldn't listen to his protests and he let himself be hauled to his feet with a last look at Jo, mouthing the words, "Save me!" She waved to him as if saying goodbye, and grinned, turning her attention back to table conversation.

"Now, Harry, you see, we're in a bit of a dilemma."

"We met these two gorgeous girls."

He replied glibly. "Sounds like a dilemma."

"And they have an equally gorgeous friend with them—"

"And while we have enough charm as at least six regular blokes—"

"We've only got enough arms to dance with two girls—"

"We can't leave their friend sitting on the wall alone—"

Harry shook his head, ducking out from under the well-meaning arms they'd draped over his shoulders. "Sorry, guys, you must have missed my entrance. I came in with the most beautiful girl in the room. Why would I settle for second place?" He headed back to the table, away from the dance floor. He looked over his shoulder once at the twins, debating with each other and trying to figure out who he'd walked in with. He sat at the table and turned an accusing glare on Josephine. "You, Miss, were supposed to come save me."

She shrugged. "I can only do so many things at one time. I was still in the middle of finishing off this drink. I can't imagine they'd make you do anything terribly awful. Well, I can, but I doubted that was their intention."

He shook his head. "Nothing terrible, but I think as recompense, you ought to get out on that dance floor with me and stand around as my bodyguard."

"Or at least help him hide from them. They're headed this way again," Ginny offered helpfully.

Harry and Josephine looked at one another and ducked out of sight into the throng of people on the other side.

Fred and George Weasley approached the table. George took an indiscriminating sip of the pina colada in front of him, finishing it off without bothering to ask who it belonged to. "Alright, ladies and gents, we just offered to set Harry up with that cute little number in the purple dress and he bailed on us."

"With the dark hair? That was my date," Dean said, getting up and hurrying over to go find her.

Ginny snorted.

George reached across the table rather pointedly and ruffled his sister's too short hair—ruffling it didn't exactly do a lot of damage. "The point is, folks, he declined our very generous offer—"

"—with the excuse that he'd already walked in with the most beautiful thing in the room," interrupted Fred.

"Did he actually come in with a date for once?"

"Or does he just have a highly inflated opinion of himself?"

"Conceited prat if he thinks he's the most beautiful thing in the room. Everyone knows that's got to be me."

"No, sir, I'm loads better looking than you are."

"You're wearing my face."

"Well, it looks better on me. Hermione, which of us do you find the handsomest man in the world?" asked Fred. There was a brief silence as the twins stopped interrupting one another to notice that no one else had said anything for some time. "Did we miss the latest newsletter?" asked Fred.

Ginny was nearly doubled up with laughter and Ron's mouth hung open until Hermione shut it for him.

Deciding that Luna must be the only one who'd retained her sanity, George asked, "What's up with the lot of them?"

Luna finally answered, sipping her drink and smiling serenely. "Oh, not much. I'm afraid they're just a little tongue tied right now. Midglewhisps may have gotten into their heads."

Hermione looked from one twin to the other. "Harry came in with Josephine." She looked around to see where Harry and Josephine had gotten to and saw them leaning up against the wall, apparently watching the table with interest.

"Bloody hell."

"Do you think she knows he thinks that?"

Harry must have seen the looks on their faces, the glances exchanged amongst their friends. He nudged Josephine and the pair of them headed back to the table. "You were right, Harry. We should have brought a camera. These expressions are priceless." She and Harry each pulled up a chair from a nearby table and sat down. "Before you start firing off questions, somebody better get me another drink or I'm not answering any. I vote Fred buys me a new drink since it looks like he finished mine off."

"Go, Fred. Fetch."

"I didn't drink it, George, you did."

"Damn."

Ginny glared impatiently at her brothers. "One of you needs to go get her a drink. I want to hear this story." George finally got up to fetch it, on the condition that nobody ask any questions until he got back.

The first question out of anyone's mouth upon his return was Josephine's. "What is this?" She frowned at her drink. It was bubbling a little and she thought something may have been moving in there.

"You've got a drink, now start answering questions."

"Or Harry can answer them. We're more than happy to bully the pair of you."

Harry looked at the twins, a little annoyed. "Don't you have dates to get back to?"

George craned his neck to check. "All three of them found new dance partners. Rotten luck. You'll have to entertain us instead."

Hermione seemed to be taking her time, trying to find a delicate way to phrase the question she wanted to ask. All four Weasleys seemed to be talking on top of one another. "How long has this been going?" "I knew it." "Is this a hoax?" She rapped her knuckles hard on the table just once and it seemed to settle everyone down, though she was sure they were going to smart for a while. Discreetly she tried to rest them against the cool side of her glass. "Why don't you all just listen to what the two of them want to say, instead of asking questions?"

Harry and Josephine look at each other a moment. She said something quietly that sounded like, "Mostly Weasleys. It's your turn." Harry shrugged, putting his arm over her shoulder. He looked fairly casual and comfortable, sitting there like that, Hermione thought. Harry reached over to where Fred was sitting and picked up the Butterbeer he had abandoned earlier. He lifted it towards Ron in a sort of toasting gesture and grinned. "I took your advice, Ron."

"My advice?"

"Yeah. I decided to see if there were any sparks. Jo and I went out last night, and we made a date of it. We're going to give this a try and the rest of you can stop placing bets on my love life or setting me up or whatever other machinery is churning in your skulls." Judging by several people's expressions, he was on the right track.

"You guys already spend most of your time together…what difference does this make exactly?" asked Hermione, trying to gauge the relationship's depth.

Harry shrugged, and grinned. "Well, we're still going to be spending loads of time together, and now I can do this." He had long since dropped the bottle back to the table, and used his free hand to turn Josephine's face towards his, his hand on the back of her neck, leaning in and kissing her soundly. Someone, possibly one of the twins, had started making gagging noises. Harry and Josephine didn't care; they were both smiling like idiots when they pulled apart. "Other than that, I don't know if anything _is_ changing. As some of you kept pointing out to me all autumn, we were practically dating already."

Josephine nodded, still grinning. "No complaints here." She took a sip of her drink and made a face. "Except that. What is that crap, George?"

George shrugged. "Howling Goblin. I can't remember what's in it. A little bit of everything I think."

They stayed at the Bouncing Ferret for another couple of hours amidst a lot of music, a few drinks, and good friends. Ron managed to corner Josephine into conversation alone while Harry was giving Luna the dance he'd promised her. "I've known Harry a long time. He'd rather face down a dragon than ask out a girl he really fancies. I can tell from the look on his face that he must have been as bloody near freaking out when he decided to actually ask you—but you were definitely worth it." He hesitated a minute and then looked at Hermione and Ginny, talking together not too far away. "My mum raised me to never hex a girl, but I have to warn you… If you hurt him, Ginny and Hermione are going to be waiting for you. Personally, I think pissing off one of them is bad enough. I don't even want to think about what _both_ of them could do to a person."

Josephine leaned in and kissed Ron on the cheek in a sisterly way. "No worries. I know he's still your best mate. Neither of us wants to screw this up."

Without thinking, when Harry Apperated he and Josephine home that night, he Apperated straight into the attic. He looked around in surprise as if not realizing that that's where he'd taken them.

"Is it alright if I stay again?" she asked.

"As long as you don't hog the blankets…" he teased, kissing her. His arms were around her waist and he had her pulled closely against him, kissing a line along her jaw with light brushes of his lips, intensifying as he kissed down her neck, neck, stopping where her neck met her shoulder. She made a quiet, contented sound, and the pair of them stood there for a moment with their arms around each other in companionable silence. When Jo yawned, Harry asked, "Do you want something to wear? To sleep in, I mean."

She made an ambiguous noise, not particularly wanting to move away from where she was leaning against his chest. After a moment she looked up at him. "Did you say something?"

He found himself a little nervous. "I was going to change for bed. Did you want something to sleep in? I have a big t-shirt you could wear, but I'm not sure if any of my pajama pants will fit…you've actually got hips." He moved a hand to rest on each hip, squeezing as though demonstrating their existence.

She shook her head. "I'll go down and grab something to wear. I'll be back in a minute." She said the spell to let the stairs down, walking carefully, not wanting to make any noise. Harry found his pajama pants from the night before and changed into them, pulling his sweater off over his head afterwards. He ran his fingers through his hair. It was only a few minutes before he saw Jo come up the stairs again, muttering the spell to close the stairs behind her. She smiled at him, wearing blue sweatpants and a t-shirt. She yawned. It had been a long day. He pulled back the covers on the bed and got in on the side closest to the wall. He wasn't sure if it was his imagination or not, but he thought her eyes lingered on his chest before she got in, curling up next to him, her back to his chest. He pulled the blankets back up again and wrapped his arms around her, kissing his way down her neck again. She murmured, "I could get used to falling asleep like this."

He chuckled quietly in her ear, "So could I," and his mouth went back to the spot where he neck met her shoulder. They fell asleep that way.

* * *

**AN:** Originally I had really wanted to make their movie _Miss Congeniality_ which strikes me as the sort of romantic comedy I could actually see Jo watching when she was in the mood to watch one. Unfortunately, Jo promised Harry no violence, so I had to toss that one out the window. I went with _Two Weeks Notice_ instead, though, really I think probably any movie would have been fine since it was such a minor detail (_Two Weeks Notice_ doesn't quite fit the timeline, it's off by a couple of years). Anyway, not a big point, just worth mention. Please review and I hope to post more soon!


	40. Tis the Season

**Chapter 40: 'Tis the Season**

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**Disclaimer-**I don't own these characters or this setting. I make no money off of this. The only reward I get for my hours of writing is a smile on my face when you review.

**Author's** Note-I'm really not sure why I didn't post this sooner. What I added today wasn't too much more than what I'd already had for the chapter. Anyway, I had a blast today, sitting in my I 3 Nerds shirt, writing fan fiction, with awesome music in my head, while out for a soda. Anyway, I was in a very happy mood. Today is the first day I've gone out walking anywhere without wearing a full leg brace since I broke my leg in September. Please make my day even better with a review.

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Only half awake, Harry tightened his arms around Jo's midsection, sighing softly. He murmured, "I could get used to waking up like this."

It was so quiet that he felt her chuckle rather than heard it. "So could I." She rolled over to face him, smiling. She leaned forward, kissing him good morning. "I bet there's breakfast downstairs."

He nodded. "Oh, I'm sure of it. But that would involve actually hauling ourselves downstairs, and I'm rather inclined to keep you here." He tightened his arms around her, rolling playfully so she was on top of him, face to face. She supported her weight on her knees on the bed mostly. "I was thinking of doing some Christmas shopping today."

She made a noncommittal nng sound that more or less simply voiced her opinion that getting out of bed was thus far the least pleasant notion to enter the conversation.

"You can stay in bed all day if you want, but I'm going out." He kissed her with his arms around her and used the moment of distraction to roll the pair of them over so he could get up. He stood on the floor and stretched for a minute before fumbling on the nightstand for his glasses. He went over to the dresser, getting out clean clothes to take downstairs to shower.

"Where are you going?"

He held up his towel as evidence. "I'm going to go shower, and get dressed, and then I'm going to eat something, and go Christmas shopping. Those are my only plans right now. You're more than welcome to join at any point in time." He watched as she pulled the pillow over her face to block out the sunlight coming into the room. He shook his head, laughing, and started down the stairs. Harry showered and dressed in the bathroom and went down to breakfast without going back upstairs to check on Jo. She was probably asleep again. If she didn't come down, he'd bring something up to her. He found Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, and Ginny all in the kitchen. Suddenly he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to be there anymore. He was supposed to tell Mrs. Weasley that he and Jo were dating.

Mrs. Weasley smiled at him. "Sit down and have some breakfast, Harry dear. Have you seen Josephine yet this morning?"

Harry took a plate from the cupboard and sat down, trying to decide how to answer that. "I think she's still asleep. I was going to bring some breakfast up to her after I ate."

"Help yourself first, there's plenty here. I'm going into Diagon Alley this afternoon to pick up my Medi-Witch robes. The witch running the shop said they should be ready this morning."

He smiled at her. "That's great, Mrs. Weasley. I think you're going to be really glad to be back at St. Mungo's again." He started piling eggs, toast, and sausage on his plate.

"Ginny was just telling us that you went out with the others last night? It's so good for you to get out of the house, Harry, dear. I worry about you cooped up in your room when you're not working. You really ought to get out more with people your own age. You wouldn't want to be trapped in the house every evening with Arthur and I…"

Harry glanced at Ginny, wondering what exactly she said, and she just smiled sweetly back at him. He attempted to give her a look that said _I'm hiding Dung Bombs in your room, watch out_, but he was fairly sure this look was unsuccessful. "Really, Mrs. Weasley, I didn't get out of the house much before because I didn't want to. I'm enjoying myself when I go out _and_ when I stay in. I'm spending so much time working these days that it is nice to just be home some nights." He started to eat, still wondering what Ginny had said. "I'm surprised to see you awake so early, Ginny. Do you have practice today?"

She shook her head. "No, but Neville wants to get the dome at least modified and set up today at the werewolf house. The other thing he probably won't have in from his supplier yet, but he's hoping to get that out there as soon as he can. You guys really need a name for the place, Harry. Calling it the werewolf house all the time just sounds awkward."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'll put it on the 'to do' list right between hire a staff and finish building the place and get the Ministry to actually stop dragging their heels."

A voice called down the stairs. "Are we going to go rattle Penny's cage today? I thought we were saving that for Monday." The word "Monday" ended in a long yawn.

"Good morning, Josephine," said Mr. Weasley, putting down the newspaper.

She yawned again, sliding into a seat. She realized she had forgotten to grab a plate and looked beseechingly at Harry, who was within arm's reach of the appropriate cupboard. He rolled his eyes at her, and leaned back in his seat so he could get a plate for her.

Mrs. Weasley got up to pour herself another cup of tea and offered the pot to anyone else who wanted more. "Ginny, dear, is Neville joining us for Christmas?"

"That was the plan, Mum—Christmas Eve and Christmas Day if you'll have him for both. It's better than him being home alone."

Harry could read the look on her face pretty clearly, which said _If he's not welcome for the holidays, don't expect me to be here either._ Fortunately that didn't seem to be an issue.

"Of course he's welcome, dear. We can put him in Ron's room if he wants to stay the night. Harry, Josephine, are either of you having company for Christmas? Or do you need to be with your parents, Josephine?"

"I might have to go home for a little bit to see them, but I'd really rather spend the holiday here. I'm not bringing anyone."

Harry was subjected to Jo's look of triumphant at the realization that like her, Harry hadn't found it exactly easy to come out and "tell the parents" so to speak. He cleared his throat, feeling awkward. "Actually, Mrs. Weasley, you remember your advice about me finding someone to settle down with?"

Mrs. Weasley looked up hopefully, and Mr. Weasley looked across the table at him down his long nose, lowering the newspaper a little bit. "Yes, dear?" prompted Mrs. Weasley.

Harry took a breath. "Well, Josephine and I have started seeing one another." He braced himself for the impact.

"That's wonderful news, Harry! Arthur, isn't that fantastic?" She rushed around the table to give him a bone-crushing hug filled with motherly love. "I'm so very happy for you." She turned around and gave Josephine a similar hug. The words continued to pour out of her mouth.

Harry added hastily, in case Mrs. Weasley got the wrong idea. "We've only just started seeing each other, Mrs. Weasley, we're not engaged or anything."

The look on her face didn't change, and Harry could see that it was already a foregone conclusion in her mind. "Now I don't have to buy that mistletoe I was going to get, though, I might anyway, since it's always nice to have it around." She shot a playful look at her husband and continued to talk rather quickly.

Ginny leaned in and whispered to Jo and Harry. "Thanks for being the new couple and taking the spotlight off Neville and I."

Harry chuckled. "Yeah. Anything for you, Gin." He took a bite of sausage. "We're going Christmas shopping if you want to go."

"I'm mostly done, but I've got a little left. Don't know when else I'll have time this week."

An hour later Ginny was accompanying Harry and Josephine through Diagon Alley. Mrs. Weasley had Apperated in with them but was now in the midst of getting fitted for her new Medi-Witch robes.

Harry had already gotten most of what he knew he wanted to get people. For Hermione he was practical—he knew she'd appreciate it: a recipe book sort of organizer for all the new potions she'd be learning as well as a book on meditation. Spending so much time around Snape, she'd probably need a way to take care of the stress. For Ron he got a new wand holster. While Jo looked in the window of a shop selling specialty quills, shaking her head, Harry muttered to Ginny, pulling her aside. "I don't know what to get her."

She had to stifle her laughter. "You spend almost all your time with her and you don't know what to get her for Christmas?"  
He glared and folded his arms. "I'm serious, Ginny. I don't know what to get her. She works. She sleeps. She reads. She eats. She—"

"Did you honestly just say 'she eats'? As in that's a hobby or something?" Ginny stared at him.

He shifted defensively. "It was how we ended up spending so much time together…We went out every week to a different restaurant."

Ginny shook her head, still trying not to laugh.

"Well, what are you getting Neville? Or what would you want Neville to get you?" he countered, looking over Ginny's shoulder to check that Jo was still busy in the shop window. She was presently having a mildly heated discussion with the sales attendant.

Ginny shrugged. "I don't know. There are three types of presents. Practical, spoiling, and what the heck were you thinking? Practically speaking, I could use new shoes for Quidditch, or a storage rack or something for the equipment I keep in my room. If he was spoiling me…maybe I'd get the Quidditch boots I've been eying but that I know realistically aren't worth the money, or jewelry or something else that I'd want, but would never buy myself. The third type of gift would be if, for example, he bought me a special fertilizer mix or a bowling ball or just, anything else that I have absolutely no interest in or need for. I'm getting him something practical. It's our first Christmas together, and I don't know what I'd spoil him with if I was going to go that route."

Harry raked his fingers through his hair, looking at Jo again. They didn't have much time before the "discussion" she was having with the attendant when from "mildly heated" to an argument. He thought he heard the words "breach of ethics." "I guess I'll just have to think of something. She doesn't wear jewelry really. Thanks anyway…"

"No problem. I've got to pick up a couple of things and run off to help Neville with that dome. You'll be fine. It's your first Christmas and you just started dating. Don't put too much pressure on yourself." She took off down the street briskly while Harry went inside the shop where Jo was and put his arm around her waist, just to let her know he was there. She balked for half a second until she realized it was him.

"What's got you so riled up?" he asked conversationally.

Jo flapped one of her hands at the window display. "These blasted Quick Quotes quills. I thought they stopped making them. Flourish and Blotts stopped selling them at any rate. What do you mean by having this garbage here? These things ruin lives."

The shop attendant was a youngish man and looked flustered. Rather than look at Josephine, he raised his eyes towards Harry, as if asking for help. "I tried to explain that I'm just the assistant. I don't control what we stock; I just sell it."

"Well, I do think these things are a menace, but it's not your fault they still exist. C'mon, Jo, let's go to Flourish and Blotts."

Jo followed him out, with the declaration that she'd never set foot in that shop again. "Did you and Ginny have time to talk about whatever you wanted to talk about before she dashed off?"

He almost paused mid-step. "Excuse me?"

"I saw that you were trying to get her eye before; it's why I went over towards the window in the first place, and then I got sidetracked by those stupid quills."

He shook his head. Apparently he couldn't hide much from her. "Not really. But I'll think of something. Let's go get some ice cream."

As they settled down at a table at Fortescue's a few minutes later, a strawberry-choco-mint concoction between the two of them, Jo asked quite plainly. "What do you want for Christmas?"

"I got what I wanted for Christmas, Jo. I've got you," he said frankly. _Wow, that sounded cheesy…_

She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder for a second, appreciating his sentiment before she went forward. "But I want to get you a little something, and I don't know what. You've got everything. I can't think of a single thing you need." She lifted her head off of him and tried the ice cream. Delicious. "There's got to be something."

He countered. "If there has to be something, you tell me what _you_ want for Christmas."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't need anything."

He put an arm around her. "Me either."

"You're impossible."

"You like me that way."

They grinned at each other and just enjoyed their ice cream—even in December—and sat together.

* * *

Monday morning found Harry waking up already feeling as if something was wrong. And it was. Jo wasn't next to him. She had slept in her own room last night, reasoning that she'd never want to get up and do any work today if she woke up next to him. Harry was taking up no more space on his bed than if she was there with him, but she wasn't there. It made the bed feel big and empty. It was strange how quickly you could get used to something like that—waking up with someone next to you, hearing them breathe, smelling their shampoo in the pillow...

He got dressed, grabbed something to eat downstairs, and jogged to the werewolf house with the frost crunching under his feet. Ginny was right. They did need some sort of name for the place. It was only a few miles and he felt the need for a little exercise. He really ought to start himself on some sort of exercise regime now that he wasn't doing Quidditch anymore. He'd seen plenty of ex-players gain a ton of weight their first season off the field.

The first thing he noticed as he jogged up was that Neville and Ginny had managed to set-up the dome to help the plants make it through their first winter. It was set up and secure, and seemed to being doing a fairly good job of keeping a bit of heat in. Harry wondered briefly how anyone was supposed to water the plants inside, or weed them. The dome didn't appear to have any sort of door. He was studying it when he heard a twig snap. He looked up to see two strangers. How had they gotten so close without his noticing?

He didn't draw his wand, but he moved his hand so that he was in a position to draw if need be. The strangers were a man and a woman. Their clothes were worn, and ragged, and both of them had rather long hair that was something of a mess. The pair of them were clutching hands with one another, and in the man's left hand was a newspaper.

The three of them stared at one another for a moment before Harry asked, a little uncertain, "Is there something I can help you with?"

The man tried to clear his throat, but it turned into a racking cough and the woman helped support him. "Is this…" He had to start again. "Is this the…place for people…people with a problem?"

Harry nodded. "It is. It's freezing out here. Come inside." He started walking towards the door and the couple followed, hesitating just a little. Harry pushed the door open and led the way inside.

There was Leo in the kitchen, doing the dishes. He had a spell book propped up and was attempting the spell for getting them done by magic. It had taken a couple of tries, but he seemed to have it now, and the sponge was scrubbing itself against one of the plates. He was grinning to himself in satisfaction: small victories a day at a time.

Harry called out a greeting.

Leo looked up to greet Harry and was surprised to see he wasn't alone. He paused as if he wasn't sure what else to say. "Hello. Everyone is upstairs."

Harry nodded and said, "Thanks," leading the newcomers over to the staircase and going upstairs. "We're still building this place, so the kitchen isn't finished yet, but it's usable, and a lot of the bedrooms are finished up here," he explained. "My name is Harry."

The man nodded mutely, and the woman said, "Christina and Jason," in a quiet voice. They walked slowly, as if they weren't sure what doom they were approaching, or when the axe might fall on their necks.

Harry filled the silence. "Right now, four people live here full time. We're still working on everything, but we're trying. By the next moon, we should have enough Wolfsbane potion for everyone. The place has already made progress in the few weeks we've been here." They had arrived at the common room. Samuel was helping John with reading. Remus had a pile of papers around him, but for the moment was just sitting and drinking coffee with his eyes closed. "Hey, everybody. There are some people I want you to meet. This is Jason and Christina."

Remus opened his eyes and smiled invitingly, the lines around the corners of his eyes showing a bit, "Welcome. Make yourselves at home."


	41. Christmas

**Disclaimer: You know I can only take credit for Jo Clearwater, no matter how much I might want the rest.**

**Author's Note: This is it, folks. The final chapter of **_**Why I'm Quitting the Cannons**_**. You guys have been fantastic, thank you so much for all of your reviews and encouragement.**

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**Chapter 41: Christmas**

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Jason and Christina had found the newspaper in a rubbish bin the day the story had come out about the werewolf house. Since then, they had been walking, trying to make their way towards the general area where the article had said it was and hoping for the best. Jason had a wracking cough that seemed to just get worse and worse and Christina wasn't much better off. Winter settling in was making things increasingly difficult. What did they have to lose by trying to find the place? And so they had come.

Leo had come upstairs shortly afterward with a tray of tea for everyone (and cocoa for John), and Remus had lit a fire and then looked through a store of general health potions Molly had brought over sometime the previous week. He found something for Jason's cough and offered it to him. Looking at the bottle a little uncertainly, Jason didn't take it. "I…I can't pay for it."

Remus shook his head. "You don't have to." He pressed the little bottle into the man's hand, closing his fingers around it for him. "Drink up."

John cautiously opened the bottle and drained it. He put the lid back on and put it back in Remus's outstretched hand.

"The coughing should subside shortly, if it doesn't, we can call in a Healer," Remus offered, settling back into his seat.

Christina was still looking around the room, sitting close to John. "I don't understand why you're helping us…"

Harry responded after a moment. "Because it's right. It's the right thing to do. You're welcome to stay as long as you'd like. We have plenty of room. Everyone deserves a place to be safe."

John had slipped from his seat and was standing near Christina and Jason. "Are you sick like me?" Christina nodded, putting her arm around Jason and holding him close. "Everyone here is really nice," John added. He took another sip of his cocoa and smiled at everyone, wearing a chocolate mustache.

After that, it was decided that Christina and Jason could share a room and it would still be big enough for two. So long as the Wolfsbane potion arrived in time there was no reason the couple shouldn't be allowed to stay together. Harry planned to go to the village shop and pick up some clothes for Jason and Christina that evening and made arrangements for getting them a bed and other necessary furniture.

Christina's voice caught in her throat for a moment. Neither of them had slept in a bed in years.

Remus laid a hand on her shoulder. "Things are going to be different now. We're working on making this place self-sufficient. Whatever education you've missed, we'll make it up. Whatever you need, we can take care of. Harry's working on getting the Ministry to pass legislation to let us work. Things are going to be different."

* * *

Hermione left Snape's lab feeling exhausted to her bones. Her arms were nearly numb from grinding slowstone to powder most of the morning, and mixing blood replenishing potions all afternoon. The blood replenishing potion had to be stirred 532 and a quarter turns clockwise, and 212 and three quarter turns anticlockwise. Under Snape's instruction, Hermione had made a dozen batches. Her back and arms ached from the work, and her feet throbbed from standing all day. She arrived home and promptly fell asleep on the couch.

Ron found her there a short while later when he came home from Auror training. He covered her with a blanket and did his best to put dinner together before waking her up. It didn't taste brilliant, but it was edible and she ate it with a grateful smile.

They were just taking the dishes from the table when Hedwig arrived with a letter from Harry. She read it through twice before turning to Ron.

"What is it?"

Hermione hugged him. "Thanks to Josephine's story in the paper, two more people with lycanthropy found their way to our safe house. Josephine and Harry went out and got them what they needed this afternoon. It's working. I felt half-dead when I got home, but…it's working, Ron. It's worth it. Things are getting better."

Hermione insisted that she was rested from her nap, and the two of them to the house to meet the newest residents, Hermione side-along Apparating with Ron so she didn't splinch herself. ("Honestly, Ron, I'm not _that_ tired.")

Harry and the others were in the common room. John had already fallen asleep and been carried off to bed. Hermione and Ron introduced themselves and Hermione asked half a dozen times if there was anything else she or they could do for them and promised vehemently (and unprompted) that all of them would have the Wolfsbane potion a week before the full moon.

Jason had a hungry look in his eyes. "Someone mentioned the potion before. Will it stop our transformations?"

Hermione shook her head sadly and Ron squeezed her hand. "Unfortunately, no. Nothing like that has been invented yet. But, the Wolfsbane potion will make it easier. You won't tear yourself or each other apart. You'll transform, but you'll still keep your heads. You can just curl up in your room and fall asleep. When you wake up, it will be daylight again and you'll be yourselves."

Jason and Christina held each other's hands. "We've spent so many nights alone and cold and howling…we try to stay away from people during the moon."

Harry looked them both in the eye. "Not this time. This time you can be here. No one can hurt you, and you won't accidentally hurt anyone else."

Josephine watched as Christina rested her head on Jason's shoulder. They both looked utterly worn out, and Hermione looked about the same. "I think it's probably time for all of us to get some rest."

They went their separate ways. Leo, Remus, and Samuel went to their rooms. Ron and Hermione Apparated home. Christina and Jason went to the room where the bed that had been picked up that day was waiting for them. This was the first time they were sleeping indoors in a proper bed in years.

When everyone else was settled in, Jo and Harry Apparated to his attic and curled up together to sleep. He lay awake for a while, holding her close, smelling her hair, just happy to be there with her. He thought about the long road he'd been on the last few months—leaving Quidditch, attempting to teach, working on the werewolf home. It was a long road, but he was happy to be where he was now. There was no more running from anyone or anything. He was home and happy and after a lot of years to the contrary, life was truly good. He was startled when he heard her say something after they'd been lying there a long time.

"I know you're still awake, Harry. Go to sleep. I'll still be here in the morning," she mumbled, snuggling closer towards his body.

He couldn't help smiling, kissing her neck. "You sleep too. I knew you were awake."

"Did not."

"Did so."

Eventually, the sandman came for them too.

* * *

Harry woke up Tuesday morning and found Jo right where she said she'd be—in his arms. He knew it was going to be a good day. He could smell her hair and feel her pressed up against him.

She rolled over then, eyes open, looking at him. "Happy Christmas Eve," she said, smiling.

"Happy Christmas Eve, Jo." They kissed, not caring a whit about morning breath, and broke apart smiling. "I don't think I'm going to get sick of that anytime soon." He reached out for his glasses and put them on.

She grinned, sitting up. "Good, because I intend to go on doing it for a while."

They did eventually wander downstairs, where the Weasley kitchen was already in full swing. Molly had a number of different dishes in progress, both for that evening and in preparation for Christmas Day dinner. "Oh, good, you're up. Harry would you break 3 eggs into the third pot from the left and stir them in?"

"Sure, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, picking several eggs out of the basket and getting started on them for her.

"You're such a dear. Ginny's bringing Neville over later. Josephine, would you mind putting clean linens on the bed in Ron's room for me? Neville will be staying there," added Mrs. Weasley.

With helping Mrs. Weasley, it was over an hour before Harry and Jo found themselves free to spend the day the way they'd like. They decided to go to the werewolf house and decorate it for Christmas—Hermione was already there and doing the same. They hung garlands and brought in a tree, and charmed little baubles of light to hang from the garlands. Harry watched as John put ornaments on the lower branches of the tree.

Mrs. Weasley and Hermione would be cooking food for the party tonight, and they'd have music. All the people who had helped make this happen were invited—the Weasleys of course, Luna, Neville, Dumbledore, Kingsley, Flitwick, Tonks, Poppy, Minerva, Amelia Bones; the list went on. Even Penny and Percy had been invited, not that Jo had any expectation Penny would show up.

Harry and Jo slipped away from the decorating for a while to pick up a few presents for Remus, John, Samuel, Leo, Jason, and Christina. They separated to cover more ground, and Harry picked up a last minute gift of his own before they met back up for lunch—after all, it was Tuesday.

Jo had a grin on her face as they sat down to eat, hardly paying attention to the food. "I just thought of something .You know him better than I do, but, do you think Dumbledore would consider dressing up as Father Christmas for John?"

Harry shrugged, a smile in the corner of his mouth. "It can't hurt to ask. If he won't, I'm sure Mr. Weasley would do it."

Jo, nodded, taking a bite of whatever had appeared on her plate. "Oh, I'm sure Mr. Weasley would be a great sport about it, but can you picture Dumbledore as Father Christmas? Especially for a young Muggle like John…"

"It'll be perfect."

Jo took parchment, a quill, and ink from her bag and started to write. "We'll send this as soon as we finished lunch."

Harry nodded in agreement, his hand in his pocket under the table, feeling the velvet of the box against his fingers. This was going to be a great Christmas.

* * *

The party was every bit as good as they'd hoped. Neville and Ginny arrived early to help set up some tables to put all of the food on that Mrs. Weasley and Hermione brought. Luna came with Seamus. McGonagall and Flitwick came a bit later, wanting to wait until Hogwarts students who stayed for the holiday were tucked safely back in their common rooms.

Fred and George came and brought dates. Angelina and Katie even danced with Samuel and Leo respectively, and both danced with John. They thought he was adorable. Tonks detached herself from Charlie long enough for a dance with Remus. Amelia Bones came, and to everyone's surprise, Penny and Percy attended briefly.

The crowning moment of the night was when Harry whispered to John and woke him up, just in time to see Santa come in and leave some presents under the tree. The look of wonder and surprise in the little boy's eyes could have melted a heart of stone.

Hermione looked at Harry and smiled. "Thank you."

"Me? For what?"

"For all of this. We'd never have managed to get it this far if you hadn't stepped in."

He looked at his friend. "Hermione, I'd never have gotten this as far as you did. I'm just glad I was able to pick it up." He reached out and gave her hand a squeeze. "Is Snape being unbearable?"

She gave a tired smile. "He works me really hard. He didn't want to give me today or tomorrow off. But he's not unreasonable. There can be a lot of dangerous side effects if a potion goes wrong, and I know I need to learn these potions. We've got half a dozen containers of the Wolfsbane potion in progress right now. Unfortunately they can't all be made as one big batch or the aconite becomes too strong." She got a wry smile on her face. "Snape's made a point of telling me how idiotic it was of me to attempt to brew Polyjuice potion on my own, and how it was even stupider for the two of you to agree to drink it. Not that I ever said we brewed it, but you know he's always had his suspicions."

"Yeah." Harry glanced down at his watch, seeing that it was after midnight. "Happy Christmas, Hermione."

"Happy Christmas, Harry."

* * *

Christmas morning at the Burrow was a crowded but comfortable affair. All of the Weasleys were present with their special someones (and several had had the foresight to bring some extra chairs with them). Harry got up early and helped Mrs. Weasley prepare platter upon platter of eggs and sausage and toast for everyone and breakfast was had before everyone wandered into the living room for presents. Harry hung back when the others started wandering towards the living room and caught Jo's wrist briefly.

She understood and stayed until they were alone. Ginny gave them a questioning glance, but Harry just said, "We'll be along in a minute," and Ginny left, hand in hand with Neville. "Jo, I hope you don't mind. I kind of wanted to give you your Christmas present alone." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small box he'd gotten the day before and held it in his hand.

"Harry, you didn't. It hasn't even been a week—" She didn't even reach for the box.

"Open it, Josephine. It's safe. I swear."

Looking at him skeptically, she took the box and opened it and laughed with relief. There was no ring nestled in the cushion. There was a small, folded piece of paper. She opened it up and read it to herself.

_I know we haven't been together long, so I'm not asking any questions. But this box is a warning—someday, I will ask. And I hope when I do the answer is yes._

"Someday. Not today."

"That's right. Not today. Today I just want to tell you that I care about you, and I hope this is the first of many Christmases together," he said, smiling.

She threw her arms around him and kissed him.

"Oy! You two, are you coming?" called George, or possibly Fred.

"They're probably making out," called Fred, or possibly George.

There was the faint sound of someone swatting one or both of the twins.

"I guess we should go," Jo said.

"Yeah." He smiled. Holding hands, they went into the living room to join the family around the tree.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well, that's it. That's the end of this particular story. I know it's been a long, long time in progress, and thank you to those of you who haven't given up on me (or this story). 8 years after I started it, and with a heck of a lot of stop and go thrown in, it's done. I've got half a dozen other story ideas ricocheting around in my head, a couple of which include elements from this story—the Werewolf house, Hermione apprenticing herself to Snape. What did you think? It would really make my year end with a bang if you'd review. I hope I made you smile and laugh over the last 41 chapters—because that's one of my biggest goals when writing (as well as making myself smile).

Read, review, and Merry Christmas, Joyous Yuletide, Happy Hanukah, Happy Ramadan, Happy New Year, Happy Flying Spaghetti Monster Day, and Happy Holidays to all!


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